What You Already Know Pt 5: Heroes: Gen Version
by MaureenT
Summary: A film crew is at the SGC, and Daniel fears that they will learn about his psychic abilities. But that’s not the only problem he faces as he is haunted by the feeling that something terrible is about to happen. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**What You Already Know Part 5: Heroes (Gen Version)**

**Author:** MaureenT  
**Rating:** T  
**Categories:** Action/Adventure, Angst  
**Content Warning:** Mild Profanity, Violence  
**Spoilers:** Bloodlines, Enigma, In the Line of Duty, Secrets, Serpent's Song, Legacy, A Hundred Days, Crystal Skull, The Other Side, Upgrades, The First Ones, Chain Reaction, Absolute Power, Summit/Last Stand, Meridian, Frozen, Abyss, Full Circle, Fallen, Fragile Balance, Enemy Mine, Avenger 2.0, Death Knell, Heroes, Resurrection, Inauguration, Lost City

**Author's Notes:** This is the 5th story in a 7-part AU series covering many of the events of the latter half of the 7th season and beyond. **It is strongly recommended that you read the previous fanfics in this series first.**

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CHAPTER ONE

Anubis was furious. He had just received confirmation that the drones he sent to the Tau'ri's Alpha Site had failed in their mission. The weapon the humans and the Tok'ra were developing was not destroyed. From the information he had just received, the reason for the failure was this man called Dan'yar. Tales of him destroying Al'Kesh and killing drones were spreading among the Jaffa. Some of Anubis' own Jaffa were beginning to question his power. He had already executed two for showing disrespect.

Anubis had also learned something else. If the stories being spread by the Jaffa could be trusted, this Dan'yar had the ability to see into the future. In fact, he had known about the attack on the Alpha Site before it came. Precognition of that level was not an ability that the Ascended possessed, which meant that Dan'yar was not one of the Ascended. This was something that Anubis had already guessed when he heard some of the details of what Dan'yar did at the Alpha Site.

So, if Dan'yar was not one of the Ascended, who and what was he? The Jaffa said that he was human, but how could any human possess such powerful psychic abilities? Only through advanced genetic manipulation or a mutation of the brain itself could such a thing occur.

Either way, this Dan'yar was proving to be a very dangerous enemy. One way or another, Anubis needed to find out who this man was and where he could be found so that he could be dealt with.

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"You screwed up, Weisman," Colonel Bray snarled. "Because of you, one of my men is in the infirmary, and the mission was a failure."

"But the translation was correct!" Doctor Gary Weisman insisted. "I was very careful to make an accurate translation of the tablet. You must have done something wrong."

Bray stepped forward and jabbed a finger into Gary's chest menacingly. "Now, you listen here, you pencil-necked geek. You're the one who got something wrong, not me or my men. God save us from brainiac scientists and people like you who think that you're smarter than the rest of us. If you were in the military, I'd have you court-martialed and stripped of your rank for your incompetence."

The colonel would have continued his tirade if it wasn't for the fact that the linguist's eyes had fixed upon something behind Bray, widening perceptibly.

_'Damn. It had better not be the general who's behind me,'_ Bray thought as he slowly turned around. _'If it is, he'll rip me a new. . . . Ohhh, shit!' _

"Is there a problem here?" asked Doctor Daniel Jackson in a tone of voice that would freeze the Caribbean Sea from one end to the other. He stood just a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his expression and body language clearly stating that he was _not_ happy.

"T-there was a problem on SG-20's last mission, sir," Gary stammered. "I translated a tablet found inside a box, which had the directions on how to safely navigate a maze to reach what sounds like it might be a storehouse of advanced weapons. But something went wrong, and one of the booby traps was tripped, causing a cave-in."

"Yes, I heard about the accident," Daniel said. He turned his eyes back upon Colonel Bray, who tried very hard not to squirm under the piercing gaze. Bray knew that the archeologist could fry a person right where they stood, had, in fact, done so to one of Anubis' drones. Seeing the man's eyes, the colonel had to wonder if Jackson could also do the opposite and freeze a man solid. It sure _felt_ colder in here.

"As it so happens, I just finished looking at the tablet myself," Daniel continued, "and Doctor Weisman's translation was accurate. What he didn't realize, however, is that there was a hidden compartment in the lid of the box, which held a second tablet with different directions, the _right_ directions. You see, the other tablet was a trap designed to lure anyone who didn't know better to their deaths. The only reason why I found the hidden compartment is that I'm familiar with the culture that the one on M37-155 originated from and knew how sneaky they could be. I suspected that there was something more to that box than met the eye. Doctor Weisman, on the other hand, is a linguist, not an archeologist, and, therefore, doesn't have the knowledge I do on the parent culture, so it's no surprise that he didn't figure out about the hidden compartment."

Daniel's gaze hardened even more. "Doctor Weisman is part of the Linguistics Department staff. Since I am the head of that department, technically speaking, he is under my command. Therefore, in the future, I would ask that you to come to me about any problems you have with him or anyone else on my staff in either the Linguistics or Archeology Departments instead of insulting and intimidating them. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes, sir," Bray answered immediately.

"Good." Daniel handed him a piece of paper. "This is the translation of the second tablet. The directions should lead whoever goes back into the maze to the chamber where the weapons are, _if_ there really are any weapons there. Don't be surprised if there aren't. Like I said, this culture was very devious, and this might have simply been one big ruse to trick their enemies."

Colonel Bray took the paper, thanked Daniel and hurried away. The archeologist watched him leave. Gary's voice brought his attention back to the man.

"Thank you, sir," the linguist said. "I'm so glad you showed up. I have to admit that Colonel Bray scares me a little. He doesn't like anyone on base who isn't military."

"Yes, I know all about his attitude regarding the civilian personnel on base, especially the scientists. I've had to deal with it myself in the past."

"Well, you sure did put a scare into him that time, sir," Gary said with a big smile.

The man's statement startled Daniel. He hadn't intended to scare Bray, hadn't even realized that he _could_ scare the man. Not all that long ago, he wouldn't have been able to even if he'd held a gun to the man's head.

"Um . . . if you have any more problems with him, just let me know, okay? Oh, and stop calling me 'sir', Gary. I'm Daniel, remember?"

"Yes, sir . . . Daniel."

Daniel headed down the hall, deep in thought. He ran the things he'd said to Bray through his mind, wondering if he'd come on too strongly. The accident was one that could have been prevented if the box and tablet had been given to him, but it came in while he was on Albaren dealing with the Jaffa, and everyone was in such a big hurry to get their hands on advanced weapons that they'd immediately sent the box and tablet to the Linguistics Department. Daniel didn't even know about it until SG-20 returned yesterday.

This really wasn't the reason for his attitude toward Bray, however. The truth was that he wasn't in a very good mood right now. He'd just gotten word that, yet again, someone had come to the SGC about him, this time because of the revelation Thor had made three days ago. A meeting was scheduled with the person in fifteen minutes. The good news was that it wasn't Major Rice or Colonel Morrison who'd come this time, but Daniel was still wishing that they'd just leave him alone. He couldn't help but wonder what kinds of demands and requests this person was going to make.

On top of this new headache to worry about was the feeling that had been plaguing Daniel for two days now, that something was going to happen. It had left him very ill-at-ease. Just like the last time he had this kind of feeling, Daniel had attempted to find out the reason for it, but without much success. All he'd gotten were flashes of an intense battle between SG troops and Jaffa and an even stronger feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

Fifteen minutes later, Daniel entered the briefing room. Inside, were General Hammond and a blond man of medium height.

"Doctor Jackson, this is Doctor Holt. He is a geneticist who works at Area 51."

The moment Daniel heard where the man was from, his suspicion that he wasn't going to like this was confirmed.

The geneticist stood and shook Daniel's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Jackson. We've been hearing a lot about you over at Area 51."

"Yes, I bet you have." Daniel took a seat.

"Okay, I'll get right to the point," Holt said. "We received the report on what Thor told you. According to him, you are genetically similar to the race known as the Ancients, correct?"

"That's right."

"Aren't the Ancients the incorporeal beings that you were one of for a year?"

"I was ascended, but I wasn't an Ancient," Daniel explained. "The Ancients were an advanced race that learned how to ascend long ago. They were the original gate builders."

"Yes, that's what I've heard. The Ancients were originally human, right?"

"Yes, but they had evolved far beyond what we are presently. Tests that Doctor Fraiser ran on the Ancient who was found frozen in Antarctica showed that, while the woman was basically human, there were differences."

"So, you're saying that, eventually, we'll evolve to be like the Ancients?"

"Not necessarily. The Ancients may have evolved from a race of humans, but that doesn't mean that we'll evolve in exactly the same way. Our evolution might take a different course."

"Yet Thor said that, genetically, you have many similarities to the Ancients," Holt pointed out.

"He also said that I wasn't at the same level of advancement. I'm not an Ancient, Doctor Holt, not even close."

"Still, the truth of the matter is that you are the most genetically advanced human being on Earth, perhaps in the whole galaxy, if we go by what Thor said."

"And? I know there's one coming, so please just come out and say it."

"And we'd like to run some tests."

Daniel gave a sigh. Yep, just what he'd figured. "Doctor Holt, I already went through this three months ago. Another doctor from Area 51 was with the men who came that time."

Holt nodded. "Doctor Fairview. I've worked with him a couple of times. But let me assure you, Doctor Jackson, that I have no desire to turn you into a lab rat. Some of the information I need I can probably get from Doctor Fraiser. All I need from you at this time are some DNA samples."

"DNA samples? That's it?"

"Yes, that's it, at least for now. I'm not saying that, sometime in the future, I won't need to run some specific tests, but, if I do, chances are that I can arrange to do them right here at the SGC. You wouldn't have to go to Area 51."

To say the least, Daniel was surprised. He'd been sure that this was going to be a repeat of the headache with Rice, Morrison and Fairview.

"Okay, I can't say that I will agree to any future tests, but you can have your DNA samples."

Doctor Holt smiled. "Fair enough."

"Out of curiosity, what do you plan on doing with my DNA?"

Holt smiled. "Lots and lots of tests. We're hoping to figure out how this happened, what caused your genes to be altered in the way they were. Were you born this way or is your ascension and return to human form completely responsible? Your report said that Thor believed that there had to be a preexisting anomaly for this to have happened, correct?"

Daniel nodded in affirmation.

"Well, that's one of the things we want to find out, how much of the end result is due to an extraordinary genetic event taking place at conception and how much of it was caused by your ascension experience. It could give us new insights into what the human race will eventually become."

Daniel couldn't help but be affected by the man's sincere earnestness. It was obvious that Doctor Holt was passionate about his work.

"I assume that you will be keeping us informed on anything you learn," General Hammond said.

"Of course," the geneticist replied. "After all, Doctor Jackson has a very personal interest in this."

A few minutes later, Daniel and Doctor Holt entered the infirmary. Daniel saw that Sam was sitting on one of the beds, being treated by Janet.

"What happened?" he asked, coming forward.

"Oh, just a stupid little accident," Sam replied.

"Sam has a minor electrical burn on her arm," Janet explained. "It'll be fine." She looked at the man standing beside Daniel. He stepped forward, holding out his hand.

"I'm Doctor Holt," he said with a smile.

After a brief hesitation, Janet took the proffered hand.

"Doctor Holt is a geneticist from Area 51," Daniel told her. "He wants some of my DNA."

Janet's eyes narrowed. "Why wasn't I informed of this before now?"

"I apologize for that Doctor Fraiser," Holt said. "Everything happened rather quickly. I was give orders to come here only a few hours ago. Someone should have contacted you about it since you are Doctor Jackson's physician. And someone should definitely have told Doctor Jackson that I was coming."

"Yes, they should have," Janet agreed, her tone unforgiving. "It seems that the NID and Area 51 have an alarming tendency to show up here unexpectedly, and they always seem to want something, especially from Daniel."

"Yes, I know about that whole issue with Major Rice, Colonel Morrison and Doctor Fairview. Personally, I had nothing to do with it, but I'd still like to apologize for that. Please believe me when I say that not everyone connected to Area 51 is that insensitive and pushy. As I told Doctor Jackson, all I want at this time are some DNA samples and the information you already gathered during the tests you ran on him back when his paranormal abilities first became active. That's it. Then I'll be out of your hair."

Janet's expression softened a bit, and she looked at Daniel.

"I said he could have them," the archeologist told her.

"All right, I'll make some copies of my findings, then we can get those samples."

"Mind if I join you?" Holt asked. "I'd love to hear your thoughts on this whole thing."

The two doctors headed off to Janet's office.

"So, what's this all about?" Sam asked Daniel.

"They want to study my DNA to see if they can figure out what's going on with it and how it happened."

"And you said yes?"

"I said yes to them taking some DNA samples and running tests on them. If they want anything more than that and Janet's test results, they'll have to ask. The truth is that I really would like to know how this happened. Was I born with some weird genetic anomaly or do I have my ascension to thank for all of this?"

Sam nodded. "I can understand that. Well, at least this Doctor Holt seems a lot nicer than the men who were here before."

"Doctor who?" asked Jack, who had just entered the infirmary. "Hey, Carter. I heard about your little mishap. You okay?"

"I'm fine, sir. Nothing to worry about."

"So, who's that surfer dude in with Fraiser?" Jack asked.

Daniel's eyebrows lifted. "Surfer dude?"

"You know, blond hair, eternal tan, toothy smile."

"Ah. Well, the 'surfer dude' is Doctor Holt. He's a geneticist from Area 51."

Jack's gaze sharpened. "Area 51? Does this have something to do with you?"

"Yes. He came for some DNA samples from me." Daniel explained everything.

"Yeah, well, just as long as they don't try to clone you with them. It was bad enough having to deal with a mini me. The thought of a mini you running around is enough to give me grey hairs." The two scientists glanced up at the mass of solid grey on his head. "Okay, so it would make my grey hairs . . . _greyer_."

"Don't worry, Jack. I doubt that they intend to clone me."

"That's good to hear. On another matter, we all need to get together and come up with a strategy to deal with this film crew that's coming on Monday."

"A strategy, sir?" Sam inquired.

"Yes. I don't know about you, Carter, but I don't feel like having my personal life recorded for posterity."

"Jack, they're coming here to make a documentary about the Stargate Program, not a biography on us," Daniel said.

"Oh, come on, Daniel. You know very well that they're going to be asking some pretty personal questions. That will probably be especially true in regards to you. After all, it isn't every day that someone dies and gets ascended to a higher plane of existence. You don't think that they're going to want to know all about that and how you feel about it?"

Daniel sat on the edge of Sam's bed. "To be honest, I didn't think much about that. I've just been worrying that they'd find out about my abilities."

"Yes, and that's another thing. This documentary guy might not be given any reports on that whole thing, but, let's face it, Daniel. You're the talk of the town here on base. Chances are pretty good that he's going to overhear someone talking."

"Yes, I know. That's what I've been worrying about."

"Okay, so the first thing we've got to do is have General Hammond order everyone to keep their traps shut about you during the entire time that the film crew is here. The second thing is for us to personally make it clear to people that they are not to say even one word about your abilities to _anyone_, not even a whispered conversation over Fruit Loops in the morning."

"There's not a whole lot of time to do that, sir," Sam pointed out. "The film crew arrives day after tomorrow. That only gives us the rest of today and tomorrow."

"Then we need to get busy, don't we. I'll talk to Hammond about it and ask him to give the order, then we can all split up and cover the base from top to bottom."

"We'll have to keep track of who we talk to. Some people will be off-duty."

"Okay, I'm going to go talk to Hammond," Jack said. "We'll get together for our strategy session later."

No sooner had Jack left then Janet and Doctor Holt came out of the doctor's office.

"Okay, Daniel. Let's get those samples," Janet said.

A few minutes later, the samples had been gathered, Doctor Holt was gone, and Daniel was heading back to his office, wishing that he could actually manage to make it through a few weeks without something big coming up. His instincts were telling him quite loudly that that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

* * *

And so begins Part 5 of my series. This story is a really long one, and a whole lot is going to happen in it.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Daniel was busy jotting down some notes on an artifact that SG-16 had just brought back when Jack came in.

"I talked to Hammond," he said. "He's going to issue a base-wide order to speak to no one about your abilities throughout the time that the film crew is here."

"That's good. I really don't want news of what I can do making it into that documentary. Can you imagine what my life would be like if it did and that thing was ever aired?"

"Yeah. It doesn't paint a pretty picture. You'd have every kook out there on your doorstep."

"Not to mention all of the people who'd want me to find lost loved ones."

"And it worries me what certain other countries might do to get their hands on that kind of power. All of which makes me wonder why you agreed to let those guys at Area 51 experiment on your DNA."

Daniel stared at his friend. "What do you think they're going to do with it? They're not a bunch of mad scientists over there, you know."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that."

"Jack, if it wasn't for the people at Area 51, a lot of the technology we now have wouldn't exist. They've been instrumental in adapting Goa'uld technology to work with ours."

"Oh, I know that. Those aren't the guys I'm worrying about. It's the ones like that Doctor Fairview and this new guy that give me the heebie-jeebies, the ones who mess around with genes and your brain matter."

"Well, Doctor Holt is hoping that they'll be able to figure out exactly why this happened, and that's something I'd like to know."

"How come you want to know so badly now? When Morrison, Rice and Fairview showed up, you said that you wouldn't undergo any of their tests to find out. And you said the same thing to Anise when she and Jacob came calling."

"Jack, there are two big differences between now and then. One is that Doctor Holt is going to be running tests on my _DNA_, not me. I won't be subjected to a thousand tests and experiments. Only my DNA will. The other difference is that, back then, I didn't know the extent of how different I am. Don't you think that I might want to know why and how this happened?"

"Yes, I can understand why you'd want to know, Daniel. In your position, I would, too. I just hope this Doctor Holt doesn't have any ulterior motives."

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Forty minutes later, SG-1 got down to the business of making sure Daniel's secret stayed a secret. A list of all the base personnel who were scheduled to be on duty was divided among the four of them, and for the rest of that day and a good part of the next, they covered one end of the base to the other, making sure everyone understood how important it was for nobody to talk about Daniel's abilities while the film crew was there.

As luck would have it, Colonel Bray had ended up on Daniel's list.

"Doctor Jackson," the man said a little stiffly as the archeologist came up to him.

"Colonel Bray. I'm sure that you've received General Hammond's orders not to say anything about my psychic abilities during the time that the film crew is at the SGC."

"Yes, sir."

"We just wanted to make sure that everyone understood that they shouldn't talk to _anyone_ about them while the film crew is here. We don't want to take the chance that something will be overheard."

"Understood, sir."

"Good." Daniel paused. "Um . . . I'm sorry if I came on a bit too strongly yesterday. I'd just gotten some news that upset me, and I guess I vented a little on you."

The colonel stared at him, clearly shocked by Daniel's apology.

"I do need to say something, though," the archeologist continued. "Like the rest of the scientists and other civilians here, I've had to deal with your . . . less than pleasant attitude toward us, and I never quite understood why you have that attitude. I can understand why some people would think that only military personnel should be on SG teams, but you target just about everyone who isn't military, whether they are on an SG team or not. Why?"

Still surprised by the apology, Bray took a while to answer. "I believe that the SGC should be a strictly military operation. Civilians have no place here."

"And you think that gives you the right to be rude to them? Colonel, are you aware that many of the civilians here are doing jobs that they are better qualified for than any available military personnel? For instance, Doctor Weisman is fluent in eleven spoken languages and can read an additional six dead languages. He is a brilliant linguist who graduated with honors from Cornell University. There aren't many people in the military with those kinds of credentials. Every man and woman here, whether they are military or not, is here because they are the best person for the job they are doing. And in regards to the civilian members of SG teams, they have contributed equally as much to our ongoing mission as anyone here who's in the Marines or the Air Force. They have fought against the Goa'uld, sometimes sacrificing their lives in the process. Three of the people who died at the Alpha Site were scientists. They could have run, but, instead, they picked up weapons and tried to hold back Anubis' drones so that others could get away. Not counting the year that I was . . . away, I've been a member of SG-1 for going on six years, and I'd like to think that, during that time, I've managed to contribute something to the program and save a few lives. All of us are in this fight together, Colonel Bray. I think you should remember that the next time you talk to one of the civilians on this base. We're not your enemy, the Goa'uld are."

Having nothing more to say, Daniel turned and left, hoping that his words would do some good.

* * *

Jack was heading for the commissary when he spied Ferretti up ahead.

"Hey, Lou!" he called.

"Jack! How's it going?"

"Oh, could be better, could be worse. Same as usual."

"I hear you. So, I heard about this gag order about Daniel."

"Yes, I need to talk to you about that," Jack said. "You need to be careful while that film crew is here, Lou. I know that one of your favorite topics of discussion is Daniel's new abilities and how you knew him back when he was just a long-haired geek who didn't know how to get us home, but you have to cool it with that talk. We can't take the chance that someone on the film crew will overhear you. Now, from what I've been told, the two men who will be with him are both military, so they'll follow whatever orders they've been given, but this Emmett Bregman is a snoopy journalist, and if he gets wind of this thing with Daniel. . . ."

Ferretti held up a hand. "Say no more, Jack. I'll keep quiet about Daniel. Not a word about him will pass my lips while Bregman is here. You know, since this whole thing with Daniel started, you and I haven't really had a chance to sit down and talk about it."

"Well, as it so happens, I was just about to get some lunch. Care to join me?"

"Sounds good."

The two men got their food and sat down at the table that was farthest from everyone else.

"I can imagine that this stuff with Daniel and his abilities has been quite an adjustment for you," Ferretti said, "what with him being on your team and all."

"You can say that again. Between you and me, it can be pretty darn spooky, and I sometimes have a hard time accepting the fact that it's really Daniel doing that stuff."

"Personally, I'd love to have someone on my team who could do what he can. It certainly would reduce the risk factor."

"Yes, but there is a risk involved in him using those abilities. He nearly killed himself when he blew up that Al'Kesh, and you didn't see how much pain he was in when he caught and held that Stargate. He was in agony, Lou. And he overdid it again during this whole thing at the Alpha Site. Sooner or later, I'm afraid that he's really going to push himself too far and end up brain damaged or dead."

"I had no idea it was that serious," Ferretti responded. "We knew that there are limits to what Daniel can do, and we knew that he'd hurt himself blowing up that Al'Kesh, but I didn't know that he could actually kill himself doing this stuff."

"Yeah, well, I think about it all the time."

Ferretti was quiet for a long moment. "He's changed since this happened, Jack. We've all seen it."

"I know. The funny thing is that I don't think Daniel's even aware of it."

"I talked to Captain Drake. When the alert was given that Goa'uld ships had entered orbit, he and some of the others at the Alpha Site started gearing up for battle. He said that Daniel came running up to them and told them not to try fighting the drones since it would be useless. He told them to use the rocket launchers against the ships and get everyone through the gate. Drake said that Daniel giving orders to a bunch of marines and airmen surprised the hell out of him, but he didn't even consider going against them, no more than he'd go against an order from a superior officer. I've talked to some of the others who were there, people who saw Daniel do all that stuff with the Al'Kesh, the bombs, and the drones. Some of them said that they hardly recognized him."

Jack poked at his food. "I know. You should have seen him fight that Jaffa. Not a man on this base would have stood a chance against him. And when he stood before all those Jaffa afterwards and talked with them, there was this air about him, like a four-star talking to an army."

Ferretti shook his head. "You know, back when I first met him, and even when we were reunited with him on Abydos, I'd never have guessed that he'd turn out like this. The guy's as stubborn as a cantankerous mule, but he never struck me as the leader type."

"At times, I would have agreed with you, but you're not the one who had to go toe-to-toe with him in a battle of wills more times than I can count. And you're not the one who had to deal with him going off and doing what he wanted to against your orders or behind your back. I might be in command of SG-1, but that never stopped Daniel from saying to hell with my orders and doing what he felt was right. He might not have been what we'd call a leader all these years on SG-1, but he sure wasn't a follower either. This whole thing with his abilities didn't create something new in him, Lou, I think it just brought out something that was already there."

Ferretti gave a nod. "He scared the crap out of Colonel Bray yesterday."

"He did?"

"Oh, yeah. Bray was being his usual charming self and tearing into the linguist who translated that tablet, the one that was _supposed_ to have led SG-20 safely through the maze. Well, Daniel showed up, and, boy, was he ever pissed at Bray, or at least that's what the guy who saw the whole thing told me. Daniel let Bray know that what happened on the mission wasn't the linguist's fault, then told him in no uncertain terms that he was not to ever again verbally attack someone on Daniel's staff. According to the guy I talked to, it wasn't so much what Daniel said to Bray. His words were actually quite mild, considering. It was the _way_ he said it and the look on his face."

"Damn. I wish I'd seen that. I've been itching to do something about Bray for a long time now. The guy's an ass."

"Yeah, well, now that Daniel's put the fear of God into him, he'll probably be a lot more polite to the civilians here."

Ferretti looked down at his plate and began fidgeting, a sure sign that he had something to say but didn't know how to say it.

"Spit it out, Ferretti," Jack ordered.

The man met his eyes. "The guys have been making bets on when Daniel will be offered the command of an SG team."

Jack was so shocked by the announcement that he almost missed what Ferretti said next.

"Quite a few of them have said that, if he _is_ given command of a team, they want to be on it." Ferretti studied Jack's expression. "I'm guessing by the look on your face that you hadn't heard this."

"No. No, I hadn't."

"Can you really blame them, Jack? The casualty list for SG team members goes up by leaps and bounds every year. The guys figure that being on a team Daniel commanded would dramatically increase their chances of survival."

Jack had to admit that Ferretti was right. "No, I can't blame them."

"Of course I told them that it would never happen, that Daniel wouldn't leave SG-1."

Deep in thought, Jack didn't respond.

The two men finished their lunch and parted company. Jack continued talking to people about keeping quiet about Daniel, though his mind was no longer on that task. If Daniel was offered command of a team, would he take it? It would give him the opportunity to do things the way he thought they should be done. No more butting heads with military-minded colonels while on missions. No more having to sneak behind said military-minded colonel's back to do what he thought was right. No more having to do things against his better judgment because that same military-minded colonel wouldn't listen to his advice and insisted on doing things his own way.

Several months ago, the idea of Daniel commanding his own SG team would have seemed pretty unlikely, unless that team was strictly for archeological exploration. Several years ago, it would have seemed ludicrous. But now. . . . Jack had to admit that Daniel would be a damn fine commander. After all these years on SG-1, he knew all the ins and outs of military operations, he could fire a sidearm and a P-90 with the best of them, and he could definitely handle himself in a tough situation. With his psychic abilities, he could protect his men better than any other SG team commander could. And he was brilliant, smart enough that he could figure out ways to fulfill their mission objective. The one possible stumbling block, Daniel's ability to lead, was no longer an issue. Jack had no doubt that the archeologist could take command. But would he want to command? Jack didn't fail to notice that, when the Jaffa asked if Daniel would lead them into battle against the Goa'uld, he had said that he would stand _beside_ them, not lead them. Was that simply because he was trying to make a point that it wasn't his place to lead the Jaffa or was it because he doesn't want to lead? Jack had to admit that he hoped it was the latter. He didn't want to lose Daniel from SG-1.

At a little before four o'clock, Jack went to Daniel's office to meet up with his team. Only Daniel was there when he arrived.

"Hey."

Daniel looked up from whatever it was that he'd been writing. "Hey. So, how'd you do?"

"Pretty good. I talked to a ton of people."

"Me too. I spoke to just about everyone, all except two. I'm hoping that I'll have a chance to talk to them in the morning before Bregman arrives, along with the people who have come back on duty."

"I think we just about have all our bases covered with this."

"I hope so." Daniel searched Jack's face. "Is something wrong?"

"I had lunch with Ferretti, and we got to talking about some things. He told me that--"

Jack didn't get a chance to finish, for, just then, Sam walked in, followed a moment later by Teal'c.

"Well, I talked to all but three people on my list," the major announced.

"I was successful in speaking to everyone who was on my list except for one individual," Teal'c stated.

"I talked to all but two on mine," Daniel said.

"And there were three on mine," Jack told them.

"So, we got everyone except for nine people, plus the ones who will be back on duty tomorrow," Sam said. "That's pretty good, better than I expected. We can probably manage to talk to the majority of everyone else first thing in the morning."

"All right, now that that's taken care of, we need to decide what we're going to do about these interviews this Bregman guy is going to want with us."

"Do what, for instance?" Daniel asked Jack. "He's here by the president's order."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean that we have to make it easy for the guy. Me, personally, I'm going to make myself as hard to catch as I can."

"I, too, have no desire to speak with this man," Teal'c said.

"What about you two?" Jack asked his youngest teammates.

"Well, sir, since I'm the most qualified to explain certain things about the technology of the Stargate and the dialing program, I doubt that I could avoid speaking with him," Sam explained.

"I can't say that I'm thrilled about this whole thing, but I'll talk to him as long as he doesn't get too personal," Daniel answered. "It's definitely going to be interesting."

* * *

Those of you who are reading both the Ship and Gen versions of this story will notice that this chapter ends in a different spot that the Ship version does. There will be several chapters like that in this story. Because of all the "shippy" content in the Ship version, several of the Gen chapters are much shorter. I didn't want them to be too short, so, sometimes, when I'm changing a Ship chapter into a Gen chapter, I take a portion of the beginning of the next chapter and move it to the end of the one I'm getting ready to post.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

In all his years as a journalist, Emmett Bregman could never remember having to deal with so many difficult people. First, there was Colonel Tom Rundell, the Public Affairs Liaison, who obviously had no sense of humor at all. Second, came Major General George Hammond, who had made it crystal clear that nobody wanted Bregman there and that he couldn't expect to be given any more leeway to make this documentary than what was specifically in the orders. Then came Colonel Jack O'Neill, who seemed to be determined to avoid him at all costs. At least Major Samantha Carter had talked with him. The problem was that she had been far too nervous and tense during her interview. And then there was Doctor Daniel Jackson, whom Bregman had begun to believe was going to be cooperative--until the man sent them all running through the corridors of the SGC because he wanted to see if they'd chase him. It was enough to make Bregman want to scream.

The journalist did have some success with other personnel on base, but it was SG-1 that he really wanted to interview. He'd read all of their files and was amazed by what they had done and experienced during these years that the SGC had been in existence. Daniel Jackson's file in particular read like a science fiction novel. Actually, it was the archeologist who intrigued Bregman the most. While the files he'd gotten on the other members of SG-1 were current, the one he'd received on Jackson ended a little over three months ago with a notation added stating that the remainder of the file had been omitted for reasons of national security. That had piqued Bregman's curiosity. He was being let in on the biggest secret in the history of the United States, yet, apparently, something in Doctor Jackson's file, something that happened within the last three months, was too secret or too sensitive for him to be told about it. Bregman hated secrets. If it was up to him, the Stargate Program would be made public. That was something he could not do, but maybe he _could_ find out what this secret about Jackson was.

--------------------------------------------------

Senator Robert Kinsey stormed through the SGC corridors. How dare Colonel O'Neill say those things to him, and in front of a camera! One thing was for certain, if he became vice president, one of his first acts in office would be to see that man and his entire team kicked out of the Stargate Program, right along with General Hammond.

Kinsey turned a corner and came to a dead stop. Standing before him was Doctor Daniel Jackson. The archeologist was casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, staring at him as if he'd been expecting the senator.

"Senator Kinsey," he said quietly.

The senator studied the man before him. Daniel Jackson had changed since the last time they'd come face to face three years ago, in more ways than just the additional muscle and different haircut. There was a greater air of strength and confidence about him that had Kinsey reevaluating the man.

That, however, was not what was foremost on the senator's mind at that moment. Rather, it was the power that he knew resided within the archeologist, a power that he believed was an affront to God.

"Doctor Jackson," Kinsey said.

"Long time no see."

"Yes."

"A lot has changed since then."

"Yes, it has," the senator agreed, "while other things remain the same."

Daniel nodded faintly and straightened, taking a slow step toward the senator. A momentary twinge of fear almost made Kinsey back up a step. For a moment, he wondered if Jackson knew about what he intended to do if he was made vice president. Were anyone's secrets safe from the man's unnatural abilities?

Deciding to pretend to be a friend, Kinsey said, "I've heard a great deal about these abilities of yours and how valuable an asset they've become. The whole thing is really quite interesting." When Daniel didn't reply, but, instead, just kept staring at him, he dropped his act of geniality. "What do you want, Doctor Jackson? I'm a busy man."

"I want you to remember that, if it wasn't for SG-1, you'd either be dead or a slave of the Goa'uld."

Saying nothing further, Daniel walked away, leaving Kinsey with the feeling that the archeologist did, indeed, know things that he shouldn't. It was then that the senator realized that his first priority had to change. Daniel Jackson needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.

--------------------------------------------------

Bregman's third interview with Daniel was proving to be more successful than his previous two, both of which had been dismal failures, the first ending with the chase through the SGC corridors and the second failing to answer Bregman's questions about Daniel's return to human form and why Catherine Langford had picked him for the job of translating the coverstone. The journalist was now interested in seeing how Daniel would respond to his next question.

"I have to say that you've had quite an exciting life since you opened the Stargate, Doctor Jackson, especially for a man who isn't in the military. I've read your file and many of SG-1's mission reports, and they're pretty amazing. There's one thing that's got me puzzled, though."

"What's that?" Daniel asked.

"For some reason, the copy of your file that I received was missing everything from the past three months." Bregman did not miss the slight stiffening of Daniel's posture or the way that his expression closed off. "Interestingly, it said that portion of the file was omitted for reasons of national security. Now, I have to wonder what that's all about. Would you care to tell me?"

"No, I wouldn't," Daniel answered firmly.

"Doctor Jackson, I am here to document the Stargate Program and the things that have been going on here. So far, I have been repeatedly hindered in doing my job. Despite that, I have great respect for the people here and what you all do for this planet. All I want to do is to create a documentary that will show the rest of the world the amazing thing that's going on here and the heroes who are making it happen. I can't do that properly if I don't know the whole picture."

"I'm sorry, but this is one part of the picture that you'll have to do without. There is a good reason why things were omitted from that copy of my file. When something is omitted because of national security, there usually _is_ a good reason for it."

"Doctor Jackson--"

"That's all I have to say," Daniel interrupted in a tone of finality. "I would suggest that you just forget about it, Mister Bregman. This is something you don't need to know for your documentary. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a lot of work to do."

By the look on Daniel's face, Bregman knew that he wasn't going to get any more out of the archeologist. He and his film crew left the office.

"So, do you two know anything about this?" Bregman asked his cameraman and sound man.

"No, sir. We were briefed on the Stargate Program when we were selected to work with you on this documentary," Airman Wickenhouse replied. "We don't know anything more than what we were told."

"Okay, then I guess we'll have to do some digging."

"No, sir," said Tech Sergeant James.

"What do you mean 'no, sir'?"

"You heard what Doctor Jackson said. The information is restricted. I'm not going to risk a court-martial by trying to find out what it is." James paused. "And, sir? If you want to make this documentary, I'd suggest that you leave well enough alone."

--------------------------------------------------

Whenever Emmett Bregman got on the scent of a story, it took a lot to get him off of it. And so it was that he completely ignored the advice of his cameraman and continued his efforts to discover what Daniel Jackson's secret was. The journalist knew, however, that if he openly pursued the story, he'd likely have Colonel Rundell jumping down his throat. Therefore, he decided to be sneaky about it.

Bregman was presently talking to one of the SGC's scientists–without his camera crew present--and decided to do a little digging.

"So, what's your opinion of Doctor Jackson and what's been going on with him the past few months?"

The scientist's mouth opened as if he was going to reply to the question, then his expression suddenly changed as he stared at Bregman suspiciously.

"Doctor Jackson is a good man, a brilliant scientist," the man replied. "He is very well liked at the SGC."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You have no opinion on this issue regarding him?"

"What issue would that be?"

Knowing that his bluff had been called, the journalist replied, "Never mind," and changed the subject.

About half an hour later, he tried again, this time with a young lieutenant.

"So, Lieutenant Marks, what do you think about this whole thing with Doctor Jackson?"

"What whole thing, sir?"

"This thing that's been going on lately."

"I don't know what you're referring to, sir," the airman claimed. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my duties." Not giving Bregman a chance to respond, the lieutenant turned and strode away.

Bregman used a slightly different tactic on the third and fourth person he questioned, but ended up with the same results. He came to the conclusion that either most of the personnel didn't know what was going on or the entire base had been sworn to secrecy, both the military and civilian personnel. Bregman's suspicious nature told him it was the latter. If such was the case, it would probably be a waste of time to continue trying to find out anything from the SGC personnel. It might be necessary for him to do his digging outside the confines of the base. But that would have to wait for now. He had a documentary to make.

--------------------------------------------------

Daniel was more than a little irked at Mister Emmett Bregman. He'd found out that, in spite of what he'd told the man, the journalist was still trying to find out what the secret about Daniel was. So far, two people had come to him saying that Bregman had tried to trick them into revealing what had happened over the past three months. If the man kept this up, sooner or later, someone might let something slip.

The archeologist was tempted to approach General Hammond about this and see if he could get Bregman kicked off the base. But would that stop the man from continuing his efforts? If he _did_ keep digging, would it be possible for him to find out about Daniel? Somehow, the journalist Armin Selig had found out about the Stargate Program, so there was a chance that, if Bregman was persistent enough and talked to the right people, he could uncover the secret about Daniel.

The archeologist decided that, one way or another, Emmett Bregman either needed to be thrown off the scent or convinced not to pursue the story. The question was how?

Just then, Daniel heard the voices of two men in the corridor outside his office. They were talking about a movie they'd just seen. Daniel partially tuned them out, his attention still on the problem with Bregman. Simply telling the man to drop the issue hadn't worked. Perhaps a different tactic would.

Deciding that it was time to talk to Bregman again, Daniel picked up the phone.

--------------------------------------------------

Bregman and his camera crew headed toward Daniel Jackson's office, having been asked to come there. The journalist had to wonder if Daniel had found out about the attempts to learn his secret. But, if that was the case, why did the archeologist ask for the camera crew as well?

Daniel was sitting behind his desk when Bregman arrived. The linguist stopped typing and turned to him, staring at him for a long moment. Then he looked at Wickenhouse and James.

"You can start filming at any time, guys. I'm only going to say this once," he told them.

The two men glanced at each other, then looked at Bregman.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" the journalist asked. "You heard the man."

James and Wickenhouse quickly set up their equipment. Once the camera was rolling, James gave a nod toward Bregman.

"Go ahead, Doctor Jackson," the journalist said.

"When I first joined the SGC, it wasn't easy keeping some of the secrets I was privy to, withholding the knowledge that I'd learned," Daniel stated. "But, in time, I came to realize that what we were doing out there every time we went through the gate was more important than the knowledge about languages, cultures, and the universe that we were gaining. We were fighting for the freedom of humankind against an enemy that would enslave or destroy us all if given the chance. Because of the work that we do, it's often necessary to keep secrets, not only for our own safety, but for everyone else's as well. What's out there in the galaxy is so much bigger than any of us. Unless you've actually seen and experienced the things that we have, you can't truly comprehend the enormity of it all. It makes most of the problems we have here on Earth seem small in comparison.

"In the beginning, the U.S. Government made the decision to keep the existence of the Stargate a secret. They felt that the world wasn't ready for the knowledge of it and what lay beyond our planet, and I agree with them. Does that mean that I think that the Stargate should remain a secret forever? I don't know. That all depends on what the future brings." Daniel's gaze focused directly on Bregman. "Until the day comes that the Stargate is made public, everyone who holds the secret about it and all of the other secrets that come with it have the responsibility to keep them, and anyone who seeks to expose those secrets for their own gain or just because they want to is, in a way, betraying all of the people here at the SGC who have fought and died to protect Earth."

James and Wickenhouse again looked at each other, this time in puzzlement.

"Have I made myself clear this time, Mister Bregman?" Daniel asked, his voice hard.

"Turn off the camera," Bregman said in response, clearly not pleased.

"Sir, what is he talking about?" Wickenhouse asked as James shut the camera off.

"Sir, did you try to find out about Doctor Jackson?" the cameraman asked.

"Just get out of here," Bregman said. "I won't be needing you anymore."

"Sir--"

"Go!"

The airman and the marine looked at each other a third time, then gathered up their equipment and left.

"I don't appreciate being called a traitor," Bregman said to Daniel angrily.

"I didn't call you a traitor, Mister Bregman. I think that you're just an overzealous journalist who doesn't know when to leave something well enough alone. But I don't appreciate you going behind my back and trying to trick people into revealing something that you've been told is classified."

"The entire Stargate Program is classified," Bregman countered, "yet I've been given clearance to know about it."

"Only because you've been given the job of making this documentary. What was omitted from my file is _not_ a part of that documentary and is none of your business. It is something personal, and if it was to become public knowledge, it would cause a lot of trouble, mainly for me, but also for a lot of other people. Now, I'm going to ask again that you drop it. Go do your documentary, Mister Bregman. That's what you're here for."

Bregman was silent for several seconds. If Daniel was telling the truth about this being a personal issue, then, in all conscience, he should drop it. After all, he wasn't one of those crass reporters who worked for those tasteless exposé magazines. He was a serious journalist. Bregman still had to wonder, though, why the U.S. Military would classify a 'personal issue' as a matter of national security. Obviously, whatever this personal issue was, it affected more than just Daniel. But the archeologist was right about one thing.

"You're right," Bregman said, echoing his thoughts. "I am here to do this documentary. I apologize for trying to get information from the SGC personnel about you when it's obvious that they've all been ordered to keep quiet about it. I won't do that again."

Daniel nodded, relaxing a bit.

"Apology accepted?" Bregman asked, holding out his hand to Daniel. The archeologist stood and took the man's hand.

"Apology accepted," he said.

In the moment before Daniel released Bregman's hand, a series of images flashed through his mind. Those images showed him that, though the journalist was sincere in his promise not to question any more SGC personnel about Daniel, something was going to happen that would spark Bregman's interest in Daniel to the point that the man would again seek to learn his secret--and, this time, he would succeed.

With that vision, Daniel realized that the only way to stop Bregman from pursuing the story would be to put it completely out of his mind. That's when an idea came to Daniel, the conversation he'd overheard earlier giving birth to it.

_'Jack, you're gonna love this,'_ Daniel thought as he prepared to give Emmett Bregman an experience the man would remember for the rest of his life.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"Are you all right, Doctor Jackson?" Bregman asked, puzzled by the way the archeologist's expression had gone blank for a moment. 

"Um . . . yes. Yes, I'm fine. I . . . just realized that I have to do something." 

"Ah. Well, I'll let you get back to work. I appreciate. . . ." The man's voice came to an abrupt halt, his eyes fixed upon an artifact on Daniel's desk. "Did you see that?" 

"See what?" Daniel asked, turning around to look at his desk. 

"That statue moved." 

"Moved?" 

"Yes, moved." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, I'm sure. I know what I saw." 

"Ah." Daniel shrugged. "That was probably just Casper. Don't worry about it." 

Bregman looked at him in bewilderment. "Casper?" 

"Uh huh. Our resident poltergeist." 

"What?!" 

"Just ignore it, and it'll go away eventually." 

The journalist stared at Daniel as if he was insane. "You're joking, right?" 

"No, not at all. It's been around here for a long time. At first, we thought that it was some kind of alien entity that managed to sneak through the gate, but then we found out that there had been reports of odd occurrences happening here long before the SGC came into existence. As you probably know, this place was originally a missile silo, and people who worked here back then reported seeing objects moving by themselves and other things like that. General Hammond worked here during the late sixties, but he didn't know anything about the haunting, so Casper must have showed up after he was transferred out. Interestingly, NORAD, which, as you know, is right above us, doesn't have this problem." Daniel smiled. "I guess we're the lucky ones." 

"You can't be serious! A ghost? There's no such thing!" 

Daniel shook his head. "I wouldn't say that, if I were you. Casper might not like it." 

Any further exclamations dried up inside Bregman's mouth as a book lying on the table abruptly lifted into the air and sailed straight at his head. He ducked, just barely managing to avoid getting hit. 

"See? What did I tell you?" Daniel said. 

The journalist gaped at him, unable to believe that the archeologist could so calmly stand there and tell him that the SGC was haunted. Then a thought occurred to him. "This is some kind of trick, isn't it," he said. "Is it revenge for me trying to discover your secret or was this little thing cooked up because none of you like the idea that I'm here? What are you using, some kind of alien device?" 

"I'm not using any kind of device, Mister Bregman," Daniel insisted, "and neither is anyone else. If you don't want to believe what I'm telling you, that's your choice, but I'd keep that opinion to myself, if I were you. You might not be able to avoid the next thing that's thrown at you." 

As if responding to his statement, another book flew off the table. Unfortunately, Bregman didn't see this one in time to duck. _Fortunately_, it was only a small book. Holding the spot on his head where he was struck, the journalist looked down as the huge tome that was still on the desk quivered as if in preparation of flight. He backed up a couple of paces, hands held out before him to ward the thing off, eyes still glued to it--which is why he failed to see the other book that shot off the shelf to his right. This one, also a small book, struck him in the shoulder. 

"Casper, stop it," Daniel commanded. 

The big book on the table jerked upward, then stilled. Daniel turned to Bregman. 

"Sorry about that. Casper doesn't seem to like you very much. But, hey, look on the bright side. At least you're not Harry Maybourne. You don't want to know what Casper did to him. And then there was that incident with Senator Kinsey." Daniel gave a mock shudder. "Oh, yeah, and Colonel Simmons, too. Not pretty. Casper wasn't really very fond of Makepeace either. Actually, thinking about it, it's a pretty good judge of character." Daniel paused and looked at Bregman as if suddenly realizing what he was saying. "Um . . . usually, that is. Most of us have been the victims of its pranks at one time or another, and you being new here, I'm afraid that it's going to target you the most." 

Still certain that this was some kind of trick, Bregman said, "I may have an open mind, Doctor Jackson, but do you honestly think that I'd believe this? I--" 

Half a dozen pencils pelting his head halted Bregman's statement rather abruptly. In horror, he saw a ceremonial spear on the wall jerk against the hooks holding it in place. He took another hasty step backwards and nearly tripped over the chair that had suddenly rolled behind him. 

At that moment, the two men noticed Doctor Bill Lee, who was standing, open-mouthed, in the doorway. 

"Oh, hi, Bill," Daniel greeted cheerfully. "I was just telling Mister Bregman here about Casper." 

"C-C-Casper?" Bill stuttered. 

"You know. The ghost that's been hanging around here all these years, playing jokes, moving things about." 

Bill Lee was not a stupid man and caught on almost immediately. "Oh, uh . . . right. Casper." 

"Unfortunately, Casper is picking on Mister Bregman because he doesn't believe in ghosts." 

"Oh." Deciding to get in on the fun, Bill then said, "Actually, there have been some in-depth studies made on ghosts that present some pretty startling evidence on their existence." Another pencil bounced off Bregman's head. "And then there's Casper, of course," Bill added. 

Deciding that he didn't want to get hit by anything else, the journalist made a hasty retreat. After watching him leave, Bill turned back to Daniel. 

"Casper?" 

Daniel told the scientist about what had been going on with Bregman, including the vision he'd had. 

"And this is your way of distracting him from you?" Bill asked. 

"Can you think of a more effective way of getting his attention off me than to make him believe that he's being haunted?" 

Bill thought about that. "No, I can't say that I can." 

"Besides, this might be fun," Daniel added with a smile. 

Bill stared at him. "This is a whole new side of you that I'm seeing here, Daniel." 

"Well, it's not a side that I show very often. There was that time when Jack. . . . Um . . . on second thought, I probably shouldn't tell you about that. Suffice it to say that I'm not the practical joker kind, but, when I'm pushed too far, I will do something about it." 

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Bill said with a slight smile. "So, what's next?" 

"I think that Mister Bregman is going to become a believer," Daniel replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

For the next half-hour, Daniel 'stalked' Emmett Bregman, using his ability to sense the presence of individuals to track the man through the SGC. He stayed out of sight, remaining hidden behind the corner of a corridor or whatever else was available. At every opportunity, namely, whenever the journalist was alone, Daniel made "Casper's" presence known to him in little ways: untying the man's shoes, pulling his wallet or pen out of his pocket, jerking on his suit jacket, little things like that. A couple of times, someone saw what Daniel was doing and asked about it. The archeologist's hasty explanation made them smile. 

A somewhat skittish and frazzled Bregman finally escaped to the room that had been set up to be his editing room. His camera crew was there. 

"Sir, are you all right?" Wickenhouse asked, seeing the way that Bregman was acting. 

"Have you two heard any stories about this place being haunted?" the journalist questioned. 

"Haunted, sir?" James repeated in surprise. 

"Yes, haunted." 

Wickenhouse stared at him, his face a picture of confusion. "Uhhh . . . no, sir." 

"Then you haven't seen anything . . . weird going on?" 

"Weird in what way, sir?" 

Bregman shook his head. "Forget it." 

The two younger men exchanged a glance. 

"Have you got all the recent footage downloaded?" the journalist asked, choosing to put everything else out of his mind. 

"Yes, sir," James answered, "including Doctor Jackson's last statement." 

"Well, needless to say, we won't be using all of that." 

"Sir, did you try to find out that restricted information?" Wickenhouse asked. 

"That's none of your concern." 

"With all due respect, sir, yes, it is," James responded. "If anyone suspects that we were involved in some way or even if we just had prior knowledge of it, we could get into a lot of trouble." 

A loud thump startled everyone. They turned to see that a picture that had been hanging on the wall was now on the floor. 

"What made it fall?" Wickenhouse wondered. 

Bregman let out a loud groan and looked toward the ceiling. "Will you leave me alone?!" 

James and Wickenhouse stared at him as if they were beginning to doubt his sanity. 

"Just shut up and do your job," the journalist snapped. 

After a pause, the two men said, "Yes, sir." 

In another demonstration of how fast news traveled on base, by the time that Bregman left the editing room forty-five minutes later, word of what Daniel was doing to the man had become known to at least a third of the personnel. Virtually everyone who found out loved the idea and wholeheartedly joined in on the 'spirit' of the prank. Thus it was that when Bregman entered the commissary, the people there who knew what was going on were eagerly waiting to see what would happen next. They weren't disappointed. As the journalist reached for his fork, it slid over a few inches. He tried again, which resulted in the utensil moving in the opposite direction. A third attempt ended with the fork sliding clear across the table. It was stopped by Ferretti, who slapped his hand down upon it. He picked it up and carried it back to Bregman, a grin on his face. 

"Lose something?" he asked as he handed the fork to the man. 

Bregman almost growled. "Thank you," he ground out. 

"Boy, you must have really pissed it off." 

"What? What do you mean?" 

"Casper doesn't pick on someone like this very often. What did you do?" 

"Nothing!" Bregman insisted. 

"Well, I guess it's possible that he simply doesn't like you. Come to think of it, though, the last time something like this happened, the guy had insulted Daniel. The time before that was when Felger's screw-up stranded Daniel on a planet that was flooding. Casper was not happy with poor Felger." Ferretti stared at him searchingly. "You . . . didn't say or do anything . . . untoward to Daniel, did you? If you did, you're in deep shit. Casper has developed quite an affection for our favorite archeologist. Some of the guys think that it's got a crush on him. Of course, we don't know if it's male or female, but I guess that doesn't make much of a difference these days, if you know what I mean." 

_'Oh, God,'_ was the thought that went through Bregman's mind. _'I'm doomed.' _

The glob of mashed potatoes that splattered across his tie just then backed up that mental statement. 

Ferretti chuckled. "Good luck, Bregman. You're going to need it." 

Keeping an eye out for Emmett Bregman, Jack made his way to the commissary for a piece of pie. So far, he'd managed to mostly avoid the man, and he wanted to keep it that way. He was glad that Hammond was on his side in that regard. 

Jack's confrontation with Kinsey had left a bad taste in his mouth, hence the need for something sweet. He knew that if that man became vice president, there would be big trouble. That two-faced, self-righteous ass wouldn't give up until he was in control of the Stargate Program. 

Thoughts of Kinsey left Jack's mind as he saw Daniel at the door of the commissary. The archeologist appeared to be hiding behind the wall to the right of the door, only part of his head peeking in through the doorway. What was going on? 

Jack was just about to say something when he caught sight of Bregman, who had just sat down at one of the tables. A moment later, Jack witnessed something that had his jaw dropping. The journalist's fork had apparently decided that it didn't want to be used and was sliding back and forth across the table. As Jack continued to watch, it slid clear to the other side and was caught by Lou Ferretti. 

"Hey, Jack. Have you come to watch the show?" Daniel asked, not turning around. 

"Daniel, what the hell are you doing?" 

The archeologist looked over his shoulder at him. "Oh, haven't you heard yet? I'm haunting Bregman." 

"You're what?" 

"Mister Bregman was a bit too curious about why a period of three months had been omitted from my file with a note saying it had been removed for reasons of national security." 

"Crap. Someone actually put that in the file?" 

"Yeah. It might not have been so bad if the file was simply incomplete, but that statement about national security piqued his interest. He asked me about it, and, of course, I wouldn't tell him. I told him to drop it, but he didn't listen. He started asking around, trying to get the information from others." 

"We need to go to Hammond about this, Daniel. He'll toss Bregman out on his ass." 

Daniel shook his head. "I'm taking care of it, Jack. I'll explain everything to you later, after Casper's finished ruining Emmett's lunch." 

"Uh . . . Casper?" 

"The SGC's friendly neighborhood poltergeist. It was you who named it that, by the way, just in case anyone asks you about it." 

"I did? I don't remember naming any poltergeists lately." 

"Like I said, I'll explain everything later." 

Jack turned his attention back to Bregman, who was in a conversation with Ferretti. He guessed that, for some reason, Daniel was using his abilities to make the journalist believe that a ghost was haunting him. A little smile curved the colonel's lips. 

"You know, Daniel, that tie of Bregman's looks entirely too clean," he remarked. 

Daniel smiled. "I think you're right, Jack." 

The mashed potatoes fixed the 'problem' a moment later. 

"Sweet," Jack murmured, grinning broadly. He slapped his friend on the shoulder. "Daniel, you sneaky devil you. I never knew you had it in you. I've never seen you do anything like this be. . . ." Jack's voice faded as he suddenly realized something. "It was you!" he almost yelled. 

Daniel glanced at him. He knew what the colonel had just figured out. "Shh. Not so loud. I don't want Bregman to know I'm here. We'll talk about it later." 

"Oh, I don't think so, buddy boy. We're going to talk about it right now. Do you have any idea how long it took for everyone to stop snickering behind my back? I cannot believe that you painted my office pink! And the hearts all over the place were just plain cruel, Daniel." 

Daniel turned to him fully. "Jack, you know why I did it. I told you to stop teasing me about my secret admirer. You knew how embarrassing it already was for me to find all those roses and candy in my office. But you wouldn't leave it alone, had to tell the whole base about it. I knew that if the shoe was on the other foot, you wouldn't find it quite so funny." 

"Pink, Daniel. Cotton candy pink, with big red hearts. It took two days for my requisition for paint to go through, and I had to stare at those walls all that time. I nearly went blind." 

"Oh, get off it, Jack. You're hardly ever in your office. It was pink for an entire day before you finally saw it." Daniel smiled. "Though I bet the janitor got a laugh out of it." 

"Mark my words, Daniel. One of these days. . . ." 

Bregman rising from his chair put a halt to the conversation. Daniel and Jack made a hasty retreat, ducking out of sight. The journalist left the commissary and walked away down the hall, repeatedly glancing over his shoulder as if fearful that someone or some_thing_ was following him. 

"So, what now?" Jack asked Daniel. 

"I think I'll give Emmett a little break. Haunting someone is a lot of work." 

Jack shook his head with a smile. "I have to admit it, Daniel. When you decide to play a practical joke on someone, you don't pull your punches. Let's go get some pie, and you can explain the rest of this to me." 

Bregman's respite only lasted as long as it took Daniel to eat his pie and explain to Jack what was going on. Then the archeologist was back to 'haunting' the journalist. As he did, he discovered that he had a rapt audience. Virtually everyone who saw both Daniel and Bregman stopped to watch the show. A few of the more imaginative shared with Bregman their own experiences and stories about "Casper". It was during this time that Daniel found out that, thanks to Ferretti's big mouth, the most popular story was that Casper had a crush on him--and that there was a debate on whether the ghost was straight or gay. That news made Daniel groan inwardly, vowing to have a little conversation with Ferretti at the earliest convenience. 

"Doctor Jackson?" 

Daniel turned to see an airman hurrying toward him. 

"Yes?" 

"Major Carter needs you in her lab to translate something." 

"Was I paged over the P.A.? I didn't hear it." 

"No, sir. The major thought it best not to page you since it might have drawn . . . unwanted attention to you." The airman jerked a head in the direction of Emmett Bregman. 

"Ah. Okay, thanks. I'll head right over there." 

"Yes, sir. Oh, and don't worry about Mister Bregman, Doctor Jackson. Quite a few of us have come up with stories that will keep the thought of Casper alive in his mind while you're busy with other things. We're all behind you on this." The young man grinned broadly. "We think it's great." 

Daniel smiled in surprise. "Thanks, Airman . . ." he glanced at the name tag, "Marshall. I appreciate that." 

Knowing that Bregman was in good hands, Daniel headed over to Sam's lab. He found her working on the Goa'uld probe that SG-13 had encountered in the Ancient ruins they were investigating. Cameron Balinsky, the team's archeologist, had insisted that they needed to continue exploration of the ruins, and Daniel had suggested that they send up a UAV to do an aerial overview. Hammond agreed to let SG-13 stay on the planet and sent SG-3 as backup, telling the commander of SG-13 to leave the planet at the first sign of danger. 

Daniel walked up to Sam. "Hey." 

"Hey. One second." 

"You, uh, you want me to translate something?" Daniel leaned his arms on the worktable, watching Sam work. 

"Yeah. I'm just trying to get the interface connection more stable. SG-13 really kicked the crap out of this thing. Its system log seems to be isolated on a separate crystal from memory control." Sam glanced at Daniel with a little smile. "So, what have _you_ been up to . . . Casper?" Her smile expanded into a grin. 

Daniel returned the smile. "I figured that you'd probably have heard about that by now." 

"I understand that he tried to find out about what's been going on these last three months." 

The archeologist nodded. "And he would have eventually succeeded, from what I saw in my vision. I just hope that what I'm doing will prevent that from happening." 

"Well, according to what I've been told, Bregman's afraid of his own shadow now. I suspect that any thoughts about your little secret have gone right out of his head." 

Sam turned her attention back to the probe and managed to get a connection. A readout from the device's log came up on the computer screen. Sam made some adjustments to clarify the image. "There." 

Daniel scanned the readout. "This is mostly just technical stuff." 

"Anything jump out at you?" 

He pointed at a section of the readout. "Well, here's where it encountered SG-13." He continued reading some more. "Uh oh." 

"What? What 'uh oh'?" 

"Well, after it engaged shields and weapons, it activated a long range communicator." 

"That means that the Goa'uld might be on their way to that planet as we speak." 

"We've got to warn them." 

Unfortunately, the warning came too late, and, now, it was up to SG-1, 5 and 7 to back up SG-13 and 3 and help rescue the injured Airman Wells. 

Because of the reported severity of Wells' injury, Doctor Fraiser herself was going instead of one of her medical team. It was not the first time Janet had gone off-world, but it would be the first time that she'd gone into a battle situation. But the doctor didn't think about that. All that was on her mind was her patient and doing everything in her power to save him. 

The teams were now in the gate room, waiting as the Stargate dialed up. 

"Daniel, you stick with Fraiser," Jack instructed. "I can't spare all that many men to cover her, and, with your abilities, you're the best one to protect her." 

Daniel nodded, not arguing. Normally, he'd have pointed out that Jack and the others might need his abilities in the fighting, but a terrible feeling was building inside him, a feeling that told him he needed to stay with Janet no matter what. 

The Stargate burst to life, and everyone hurried up the ramp, wondering what they'd encounter on the other side. 


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Major Stevenson came up to SG-1, Janet and the other two teams as they stepped out of the Stargate.

"Report, Major," Jack ordered, scanning the area.

"We're secure for now, sir. We took out three Jaffa. The rest are attacking Major Dixon's position, which is less than two klicks to the north. Colonel Reynolds and Perkins went to back them up."

"All right. Stay here at the gate. Hopefully, this won't take long."

"Yes, sir."

"Major, do you know where Airman Wells is?" Janet asked.

"No, ma'am, not exactly. All I know is that the others are covering him."

"Okay, let's head out," Jack commanded.

SG-1 and the others headed in the direction of SG-13 and the rest of SG-3. They hadn't been traveling very long when the sound of ground fighting and attacking ships came to their ears.

"Crap," Jack cursed. "That sounds like a hell of a lot more than six Jaffa."

They increased their pace and soon came upon a scene out of hell. There were Jaffa, Al'Kesh and gliders everywhere. Jack fired off orders to everyone. Spying Colonel Reynolds, they found out from him where Airman Wells was. Two members of SG-5 went on ahead with orders to clear the way for Daniel and Janet then return. As the others headed into battle, the doctor and the archeologist took off for Wells' position. They were almost there when the two members of SG-5 who had gone ahead of them radioed that the way was clear. Daniel and Janet passed the men running back toward the fighting as they hurried up to the injured Wells and his teammate, Airman Bosworth.

Janet and Daniel began attending to Wells as Bosworth ascended the incline so that he could cover them from the ridge.

"I'm Doctor Janet Fraiser. Can you hear me?" the doctor asked the injured man, who was lying on his stomach, the staff weapon wound in his back covered by a bloody cloth.

"Yeah," Wells gasped. "Hurts so bad. I can't move. I can't feel my legs. I think it went right through me."

"What's your name?" Daniel asked him.

"Senior Airman Wells, Simon Wells. Am I gonna die?"

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Janet replied. Addressing Daniel, she said, "Okay, we need to roll him over and stop the bleeding. Okay? Simon, you hanging in there?" A moan of pain was her answer. "Okay, easy. All right, on three. One . . . two . . . three."

Simon screamed as Daniel and Janet turn him onto his back.

"I'm Daniel Jackson," Daniel said to Simon, who was gasping and panting in pain.

"I know. I know. SG-1."

Daniel shared a look with Janet. The expression on her face told him that the young airman was seriously hurt. "Okay, you're gonna be fine," he said to Simon, trying to sound convincing.

"Son of a bitch. He came out of nowhere! Shot me in the back."

"Let's talk about something else right now, Simon. Uh . . . what's going on at home right now?"

"M-my wife . . . is pregnant."

"Yeah? That your, uh, that your first? Congratulations."

Simon screamed as Janet clamped off a bleeder.

"That's good. At least you felt that," the doctor said, hopeful that her patient wasn't permanently paralyzed.

At that moment, a voice came over the radio. "Colonel O'Neill! Our position's being compromised! We're not gonna be able to hold the gate for long!"

Jack's reply was barely understandable, his radio transmission breaking up. "It doesn't matter we're not gonna be able to hold this position for that long."

Janet grabbed her radio, keying the microphone. "Colonel? I need more time to stabilize this patient. He can't be moved yet."

"You can't help me! Leave me!" Simon cried. "Doctor Jackson, you should go help them. They need you."

"Nobody is going anywhere," Janet told him.

"God. I can't believe I'm not gonna see my son!"

Trying to keep the young man's mind off his desperate situation, Daniel quickly said, "Ok, just stay focused, stay focused. . . ."

A sudden vision halted Daniel's voice. As if he was witnessing it with his own eyes, he saw Jack rise from his position behind a boulder and run out into the open. There was a flash of light, striking with deadly accuracy, and Jack fell to the ground to lie unmoving.

"Jack!" Daniel cried. He grabbed his radio. "Jack, don't move! Stay at your position! Jack!"

Even as Daniel spoke the words, he already knew it was too late. He felt it as his friend was felled by the staff weapon blast.

"Oh, God. Jack's been hit."

"What?!" Janet cried. "How bad?"

"God, I don't know! I should have stayed with them. How could I have been so wrong? Why didn't I see this?"

Janet grasped his arm. "Daniel, you can't think about that right now. We have to get Simon stabilized. Then we can all get out of here."

Daniel closed his eyes tightly for a second, then turned his attention back to the matter at hand, trying not to think about the fact that one of his best friends might be dead.

--------------------------------------------------

The fighting was growing more intense by the second. Major Stevenson had just radioed that their position at the gate was being compromised. If they didn't get out of there soon, none of them would make it. Sam heard Colonel O'Neill radio back to Stevenson that they weren't going to be able to hold their own position, then Janet's voice came over the radio, saying that her patient couldn't be moved yet.

Sam knew that Jack was right. Their position was being overrun. "Sir, we gotta fall back!" she called to him as she continued firing at the oncoming Jaffa.

Just then, one of the other SG team members used a grenade launcher on a small group of Jaffa. A moment later, Sam thought she heard Daniel's voice over the radio, his transmission badly garbled.

"Jack . . . move! Stay . . . your . . . ition! Jack!"

Sam turned just in time to see the colonel rise to his feet and run out into the open. He'd taken only a couple of steps when a staff weapon blast struck him in the lower chest.

"Sir!" Sam cried. She leapt to her feet and rushed to his side. Knowing that she had to get him out of the line of fire, she grasped him under the armpits and dragged him with all her strength back behind the boulder where Dixon was.

"How is he?" the SG-13 commander asked, looking down at Jack.

Sam felt for a pulse, breathing a sigh of relief as she found one. "He's alive, but I don't know how badly he's hurt. Sir, we've got to get out of here!"

--------------------------------------------------

Daniel's fear for Jack was competing with his anger at himself. Why hadn't his abilities warned him about Jack in time to do something about it? Why had he felt such an overwhelming feeling of dread about Janet but not Jack? Yet again, Daniel cursed the unreliability of his precognitive abilities.

A cry of pain from Simon drew Daniel's attention back to what was happening.

"God, I don't want to die before I see my baby!"

"Simon! Simon!" Janet yelled. "Look at me. You are not going to die, okay? I did not come all the way out here for nothing. . . ."

Janet's voice faded into the background as Daniel was suddenly hit by a violent series of images, coming so fast that he could barely register them. He saw Janet's body flung to the ground, a smoking hole in her chest, dead eyes staring vacantly up into the sky. He saw Sam crying tears of terrible sorrow, then standing on the Stargate ramp, speaking to everyone there about Janet's sacrifice and all the people who were alive because of her. He saw a flag-draped casket, Cassie weeping before it.

As the vision came to an end, Daniel screamed Janet's name. He flung himself at her, knocking her to the ground. At the same instant, there was the sound of a staff weapon being fired. Daniel felt the heat of the blast pass mere inches above him. Then he heard a P-90 being fired.

"I got him!" Bosworth yelled. "You're clear."

"Janet, are you okay?" Daniel asked anxiously.

"Yes, I'm all right. What about you?"

"I'm okay."

As they sat upright, their eyes met for a long moment.

"Thank you, Daniel," Janet said, knowing that he had probably just saved her life.

The archeologist gave her a nod and a small smile, not letting her see that he was shaking. Pushing aside the knowledge of how close Janet came to dying, Daniel helped her finish stabilizing Simon. They pulled the folding stretcher out of Janet's pack and got Simon onto it. Radioing that they were on their way, Daniel and Janet lifted the stretcher and hurried in the direction of the Stargate as Bosworth covered them.

Daniel's senses were on full alert, especially his sixth sense. He knew that the forces from Earth were in trouble and that something had to be done to stop the Jaffa and those ships.

As they got close to the fighting, he came to a halt. "Put him down, Janet," he instructed, looking at her over his shoulder.

The doctor gazed at him, seeing the expression on his face. She nodded, and they lowered Simon to the ground.

"What's wrong?" Simon asked, twisting his head about.

"Nothing's wrong, Simon," Daniel replied. "I'm just going to help out a little."

Turning toward the battle, Daniel strode forward as he gathered his power. A moment later, fire erupted from nothingness and rushed at several Jaffa, who fled before its fury. Small, yet deadly balls of flame appeared and struck like staff weapon blasts, felling three Jaffa at once. Two more were hurled thirty feet through the air. Sheets of fire blazed toward another group of Jaffa, sending them fleeing for their lives.

"Dan'yar!" screamed one Jaffa. Hearing that cry, most of the remaining Jaffa turned and ran. The few that were left died quickly, brought down by P-90's and Teal'c's staff weapon.

Daniel's gaze rose to the ships above them, which were still attacking. He targeted the engine of one of the gliders, picking the precise moment to hit it. The engine blew up, sending the ship careening out of control--and right into an Al'Kesh. Both ships exploded in a spectacular fireball.

"Holy shit," murmured Bosworth, his mouth falling open.

Though she remained silent, Janet agreed with the sentiment. This was the first time that she had witnessed Daniel using his power like this, and it left her with a feeling of awe. She had known what he was capable of, but to actually see it with her own eyes really drove home how amazing his power was.

Apparently, the pilots of the other gilders and Al'Kesh decided that getting the hell out of there would be a good idea, for they suddenly turned and fled.

"Wow," Simon whispered.

"You said it, buddy," Bosworth responded.

Ignoring the pain in his head, Daniel cast his gaze about. He caught sight of Sam and Teal'c and knew that they were with Jack. The archeologist looked over at Janet.

"Janet, I need to check on Jack."

The doctor nodded. "Go. I'll be there in a minute."

Daniel immediately ran to his teammates. His heart jumped up into his throat as he saw Jack lying still on the ground, Sam and Teal'c kneeling beside him.

"Sam?" Daniel inquired fearfully.

"He's alive, Daniel," she told him. "The new vest insert kept the blast from penetrating, but I don't know if there are any internal injuries. We need to get him to the infirmary. Where's Janet?"

"Here!" Janet called as she came running up.

"How's Airman Wells?"

"Stable. He's being taken to the gate. I think he's going to make it, though I'm not sure about spinal damage."

Janet turned her attention to Jack, checking his pulse and pupils. With Daniel's help, she got the vest off the colonel and began examining the area where he was hit, palpating gently.

"I'm not finding any overt evidence of internal hemorrhaging," she announced, "but that doesn't mean that there isn't any. Let's get him on a stretcher and back home."

Less than half an hour later, they were all back through the gate. Janet went off with her patients to the infirmary. There had been several other injuries, but nothing severe. Considering how badly outnumbered the forces from Earth had been, they'd gotten very lucky. Daniel was the only one who really knew exactly how lucky.

Hammond asked for a brief report, then let Sam, Daniel, Teal'c and Simon's teammates go to the infirmary, telling them that the debriefing could wait a couple of hours.

Janet was far too busy to answer their questions when they arrived, so the five of them went to a separate part of the infirmary and got their post-mission exams, which were performed by a couple of the medics. Doctor Balinsky, SG-13's archeologist, joined them to wait for word on his teammate.

"You're a real handy man to have in a fight, Jackson," Colonel Dixon commented. "We'd probably have taken care of those Jaffa within a couple of minutes if you'd been with us instead of with Fraiser."

"I was where I needed to be," Daniel responded in a very quiet voice.

Sam looked at him closely. "Daniel? Did something happen?"

"Doctor Fraiser was almost hit," Bosworth replied. "A Jaffa must have slipped past you guys. If it hadn't been for Doctor Jackson, he would have gotten the doc."

Sam kept her eyes on Daniel, who was staring at the floor. "Did you see something, Daniel?"

The archeologist drew in a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I did." He looked at her. "I'd rather not talk about it now, Sam."

She gave him an understanding smile. "Okay."

They had all just completed their post-mission exams when Janet came up to them.

"Airman Wells is still in surgery, but Doctor Warner believes that he'll make a full recovery. As for Colonel O'Neill, he's going to be very sore for a while, but he'll be just fine."

Everyone smiled in relief.

"Can we see Jack?" Daniel asked.

"He's sleeping, and I'd rather that he isn't disturbed. I've had him put in a private room so that he won't be bothered, namely by Mister Bregman, whom I should imagine will be showing up here pretty soon. You can see the colonel in a few hours. In the meantime, I'd suggest that you all go take a nice hot shower and get some rest yourself. Daniel? I'd like you to stay a moment, please."

As the others left, Daniel sat back down on the bed, figuring that Janet was going to ask how bad his headache was. His guess was correct.

"How bad is it this time?" she questioned.

"Not so bad. I've definitely had worse."

Janet flashed her penlight into his eyes, which made him flinch and jerk away.

"Still a little sensitive to light, I see."

"Ya think?" Daniel responded, squinting in pain.

"Okay, I'll spare you the CT this time since I'm guessing that you managed to avoid doing any real damage, but I'm giving you an order to get some rest. You are _not_ to stay on base all night, got it? I want you to go home."

Daniel gave a nod, not wanting to argue.

Janet got Daniel some pain medication and a glass of water and handed them to him. She watched as he swallowed the pills.

"Daniel, I want to thank you again for what you did," she said.

"I just wish that I'd known sooner. That was way too close. I don't know why I didn't sense that Jaffa's presence."

"Daniel, you're mind was on Colonel O'Neill and what was happening. It's perfectly understandable that you didn't notice the Jaffa. Regardless, you saved my life. I probably would have died out there today if it wasn't for you."

Daniel met her eyes. "You _did_ die, Janet," he said in an emotion-filled voice. "I saw you lying there on the ground, dead. I saw your memorial service, and your casket, and Cassie crying. . . ." He closed his eyes, trying to blot out the terrible images. When he opened them, he saw that Janet's face had gone white. She looked deeply shaken. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you."

"No. No, it's . . . it's okay." Janet's breathed in deeply, regaining her composure. She laid her hand on his arm. "It didn't happen, Daniel, thanks to you. That's what matters."

The archeologist nodded. "Yes. That's what matters."

"Oh, and, by the way, considering this most recent use of your abilities, I'd recommend that you give Casper a rest."

Daniel looked at Janet and saw a little smile playing around the corners of her mouth. "I guess I should have known that you'd find out. No lecture on the frivolous use of my abilities?"

"No, not this time. From what I understand, it wasn't completely frivolous. You're lucky, though, that Mister Bregman doesn't have a weak heart. Now, go on. Get out of here. I've got patients to attend to, one of which is a certain colonel who will probably be very cranky when he wakes up."

Daniel turned away, thinking about the empty spot that would have been left in his life if he had not yet again managed to change the course of history. As unreliable as it was, his ability to see the future was a power that saved lives. It had saved Sam's life, the lives of who knew how many people at the Alpha Site, and, now, Janet's. And, with his other abilities, he had saved lives as well and would continue to do so whenever he was able.

Finally accepting once and for all that these abilities weren't the curse he had thought they were, Daniel left the infirmary, a smile on his face.

--------------------------------------------------

From what Emmett Bregman had heard--which really wasn't much--there had nearly been a catastrophe today. There had been several injuries, at least one of them serious, but, from what he could gather, nobody had died. He'd caught a small snatch of conversation, something about Doctor Jackson and fire, but the two men who were talking stopped abruptly when they saw him and quickly left.

Thinking about Doctor Jackson, Bregman had found it interesting that, during the entire time that the archeologist had been gone, he had not been plagued by the so-called poltergeist. He had to wonder why.

Though he hadn't had any incidents recently, he'd heard plenty of stories about the ghost. It seemed that a lot of the SGC personnel had their own tales to tell. Too bad they hadn't been this chatty when he was asking them about their views on the Stargate Program.

Bregman was presently on his way to the infirmary, hoping that he'd get some questions answered.

"Well, hello there, Mister Bregman," greeted Ferretti, who had been walking in the opposite direction. "How's it been going?"

"Actually, quite well lately," the journalist replied. "In fact, I was just thinking about that."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Your Casper hasn't been bothering me recently. In fact, I haven't had any trouble since shortly before Doctor Jackson left on that mission. Why do you suppose that is?"

Ferretti shrugged. "Oh, that's because Daniel was off-world. Whenever he goes on a mission, Casper hangs out in the control room until he comes back. Like I said, it's very fond of him."

"So, you're saying that, now that Doctor Jackson has returned, everything is going to start up again?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Casper might be done having his fun." Ferretti grinned. "I guess we'll see."

Bregman was within sight of the infirmary when he saw Daniel leaving it. The journalist noticed immediately that there was dried blood on the archeologist's hands.

"Doctor Jackson!"

The smile that had been on Daniel's face vanished upon seeing Bregman. _'Great. This is all I need right now.' _

"I heard that there was a serious firefight on your mission. There were some injuries?"

"I'm sorry, Mister Bregman, but I don't have time to discuss it right now. I've got to get cleaned up and go to the debriefing."

"Yes. Cleaned up. Is that . . . is that blood on your hands?"

Daniel looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time that Airman Wells' blood was on them.

"Was one of your team injured?" Bregman asked.

"Mister Bregman, you know that I can't discuss anything that's--"

"Ongoing activity. Yes, I know, and I'm getting more than a little tired of hearing that. From the beginning, I've been stonewalled by just about everyone I've talked to here and been prevented from filming anything that would give life to this documentary. You people are out there risking your lives for us, and that's what I want to show the world in this documentary. All these secrets, keeping secrets from the press, will only result in lies and innuendo. Is that what you want? Is that what any of you want? One of the things that makes this country great is our constitutional right to freedom of speech and freedom of the press because it gives us the right to tell the American public the truth, not government-created propaganda. I know that none of you want me here, but I am here, and I am going to make this documentary the best that I am able. Yes, I think that the Stargate should be made public. I believe that the American people and all the rest of the world should know of the amazing things that happen here every day and of the people who make them happen. That doesn't make me an enemy."

Daniel paused, absorbing Bregman's words. He had to admit that the man did have a few valid points.

"Jack was hit, but he's going to be all right," Daniel told the journalist.

"Is that his blood?"

Daniel looked at his hands again. "No. It's someone else's. I can't give you his name."

"All right. There were no fatalities?"

"No. Everyone made it back."

"Good, good. Can you tell me what happened?"

"No. I'm sorry. You'll have to wait until General Hammond okays it."

Bregman nodded. "Very well. Thank you for at least telling me something, Doctor Jackson. I hope that Colonel O'Neill will make a full recovery."

"Thanks. Now, I really have to go."

"Yes, of course."

Daniel turned away.

"Oh. One more thing, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel looked back over his shoulder at the man. "Yes?"

"I really am sorry for what I did earlier. You were right. I was being overzealous, and I stepped over the line. I just want you to know that."

Daniel gave him a nod and continued on his way. Just before turning the corner, he focused his power one last time on the journalist. The startled little yelp coming from that direction told him that he'd hit is target. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Bregman rubbing his butt.

Hiding his smile, Daniel headed to the elevator, putting Casper the Ghost to rest.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

By the end of the debriefing, Daniel was more than ready to go home and get some sleep. As everyone was leaving, Hammond asked him to come to the general's office.

"It appears that, once again, we are in your debt, Doctor Jackson," Hammond said.

"Not at all, sir. I just did what I could to help."

"Nevertheless, you may have prevented more injuries and perhaps even some deaths. Doctor Fraiser most certainly owes her life to you. But this is not what I wanted to speak to you about. It is concerning Mister Bregman and what's been going on with you and him."

Uh oh. "Sir, I. . . ."

Hammond held up his hand, halting Daniel's explanation. "I've already been told the reason for your actions. You should have come to me about this. Mister Bregman may not be military, but that does not give him the right to pursue classified information. I must apologize to you about that notation that was placed in your file. The person who omitted the information from the file does such things regularly as part of his duty and is accustomed to making such a notation. No one thought to tell him not to do so this time."

"I understand, sir."

"Now, regarding this . . . poltergeist of yours."

"General, I know that what I did was, well, pretty unorthodox, and maybe if I'd thought about it a little longer, I could have come up with another way to get Bregman to stop pursuing the story, but I was a little desperate. I knew that, if I didn't stop him, he was going to find out about me."

General Hammond didn't speak for a few seconds. "Doctor Jackson, in a position like mine, there are a lot more tears than laughter, so don't apologize for give this old warhorse something to laugh about."

Daniel's jaw dropped slightly. "What? Y-you're not mad?"

Hammond gave a little laugh. "No, Son, I'm not mad. I only wish that I'd had the pleasure of seeing 'Casper' at work. However, I do think that it's time to put a halt to it."

"Already done, General. Casper won't be making any more appearances."

"Good. Now, go home and get some sleep, Doctor Jackson. You look beat."

"Thank you, sir."

--------------------------------------------------

Janet closed the door of her house with a weary sigh. It had been a very long, tiring day. Thankfully, all of her patients were going to make a full recovery.

Normally on a day like this, Janet would have stayed on base to keep an eye on her patients, but tonight she'd had a desperate need to come home and see her daughter.

"Mom? Is that you?" asked eighteen-year-old Cassie as she came out of her bedroom, her hair mussed from sleep.

"Yeah, it's me, sweetheart."

Without a word of explanation, Janet wrapped her daughter in her arms and held on tightly.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Cassie asked, suddenly afraid. "Did something happen? Oh, God. Did somebody die?"

Janet drew back slightly and stroked Cassie's hair, smiling at her. "No, nobody died, honey, though Colonel O'Neill was injured. But he's going to be just fine."

"Then what's wrong, and don't tell me 'nothing'."

Janet scanned her daughter's face, trying to decide what to tell her. Cassie was old enough to be able to handle the truth. She'd be going off to college next year. She was a young woman now, no longer the little orphan girl that Janet had taken into her home all those years ago.

Janet led Cassie to the couch and sat down with her, keeping hold of her hands.

"Cassie, honey, you know about Daniel and the things he can do, right?"

Cassie nodded. "His psychic abilities."

"Something happened today. One of the teams got into trouble on a mission. One of the men was badly injured. SG-1 and two other teams went to help. Because of the severity of the injury, I went, too."

Cassie's eyes widened a little. "You went off-world?"

"Yes. Daniel was with me when I was treating the injured man and. . . . He had a vision, Cassie, and, in it, he saw me die."

Cassie's face went white. "D-die? He saw you die?"

"Yes, but he stopped it from happening. A Jaffa fired at me, and Daniel pushed me out of the way just in time. He saved my life."

"Oh my God," Cassie whispered. "You could have died today."

"Yes, but I didn't. I'm right here, alive and well."

Cassie threw her arms around her mother, hugging her with all her strength.

"Shh. It's all right, sweetheart. You didn't lose me," Janet said soothingly.

As Cassie continued to hug Janet, she whispered in her mind, _'Thank you, Daniel. Thank you for saving my mom.' _

--------------------------------------------------

"Ferretti!"

Lou Ferretti turned to see Daniel striding toward him. The archeologist didn't look happy.

_'Uh oh.'_ Lou turned back to the two men with whom he'd been talking. "Hide me. Please."

"Not a chance, Ferretti," said one of them. "There ain't no way I'm getting in the way of Doctor Jackson. You're on your own."

"Ditto," said the other man.

"In fact, I feel the sudden need to be elsewhere," the first man stated. "See ya."

Both men moved rather quickly away down the hall.

"Cowards," Ferretti muttered, then turned to meet his fate. "Hey, Daniel," he said with excessive cheerfulness.

Daniel came to a halt before him. "A crush, Ferretti? You told Bregman that Casper has a crush on me?"

"No, not exactly. I said that some of the guys thought it had a crush on you."

"Don't split hairs, Ferretti. You're also the one who started this whole thing about Casper possibly being gay."

"Um, wellll. . . ."

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, let's get one thing straight. After Bregman leaves, I don't want to hear one word about a nonexistent ghost's sexual orientation or its romantic feelings for me. Got it?"

"Got it," Ferretti immediately answered, not wanting to be "Casper's" next target.

"Good." Daniel started to turn away, then paused. "Oh, and, Ferretti? Thanks for backing me up."

Lou gave the archeologist a smile. "Any time, Daniel."

--------------------------------------------------

It was bad enough that they were subjected to a nosy journalist. Now, they had to deal with this. General Hammond was not a happy man. The NID had decided to investigate the events on P3X-666, which they were calling a near disaster. A Mister Woolsey had just arrived and was being escorted to Hammond's office.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. It opened to reveal Colonel Rundell and a balding, bespectacled man. The colonel introduced the man, who's name was Woolsey.

Woolsey came forward. "General." He handed Hammond a file.

"I already know these orders originated from Senator Kinsey's office," the general said. "Why don't you tell me the rest."

"As chairmen of the intelligence oversight committee, Senator Kinsey has asked that I review your command decisions regarding the recent rescue of SG-13."

"My command decisions are reviewed by the Chief of Staff of the Air Force and the President of the United States. I filed my preliminary mission report yesterday afternoon. You are welcome to read that, if you haven't already."

"It is the contents of that mission report that have brought me here, General."

"You and the senator certainly don't waste any time, do you. But then, I suspect that, if there had been any fatalities on this mission, you'd have been here even sooner."

"You will find that I am not a man who wastes time, General. I have been authorized to begin a full investigation into this matter as part of a larger examination of SGC's strategic policy that the committee is preparing for the president. I have enclosed a list of interviews I will be conducting and materials I will require. I expect your full cooperation."

Woolsey turned and left, Colonel Rundell holding the door for him.

"General," Rundell said, then also left.

Hammond sighed and ran a hand over his bald pate. This was not going to be enjoyable.

Deciding that it would be prudent to check up on this Mister Woolsey, the general called Sam and asked her to get in touch with Agent Barrett at the NID. A while later, he went to her lab to see if she'd learned anything.

"Did you talk to Agent Barrett?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "He said, as far as he knows, Woolsey is clean. But he did say he's as sharp as they come. He's got an MBA and an LLP from Harvard. He was a lead council for the Army Corp of Engineers for ten years and later sat on the defense policy board. He was asked to resign last year when it was disclosed that he had financial ties to a large corporation that had been awarded over eight hundred million dollars in private sector defense contracts by the Pentagon. He's been with the NID since then. Barrett faxed me this internal NID memo Woolsey recently wrote. I think you should read it." She handed him the file, which Hammond glanced over. "What do we do, sir?"

"Just tell the truth. We have nothing to hide. The mission on P3X-666 was a complete success."

"Yes, sir."

A short while later, Sam was told to report to Woolsey. He had set up what the major swore looked like a police interrogation room--sans two-way mirror--in one of the unused storage areas on Level 17.

"Have a seat, Major," the man said. "Let me explain why I am here."

Sam sat down. "That's a good question. Why _are_ you here?"

Woolsey started the video camera that was pointing at Sam. "I believe classified military operations require oversight."

"This isn't the first time we've been scrutinized by the NID."

"I know the stakes around here are always high, but Sunday's debacle could have resulted in numerous deaths, perhaps of everyone there."

"Debacle? Mister Woolsey, in case you didn't know, the mission was a complete success."

"Thanks only to the actions of Doctor Jackson and the questionable use of his . . . abilities."

"Questionable use? Exactly what are you saying?"

"I am saying that the SGC shouldn't rely on the abilities of one man to pull their nuts out of the fire whenever their forces get into a situation they can't handle."

Sam stared at Woolsey in disbelief. "You talk like we're all a bunch of incompetent idiots who come running to Daniel every time things get a little hot."

"You can't deny the fact that, if Doctor Jackson hadn't stepped in, most of you would never have made it off that planet."

"I don't know what would have happened if Daniel hadn't done what he did. We were not cut off from the Stargate. There is a good chance that we'd have been able to make it to the gate and back home. The reason why we were delaying pulling out is because Airman Wells wasn't stable enough to be moved."

"Yes, about Airman Wells. There were already six people on that planet covering him, and General Hammond sent in thirteen more, counting Doctor Fraiser. That's nineteen people risking their lives to protect a single individual. I think that's pretty excessive."

"We don't just leave people behind. You can't ask airmen, soldiers, human beings to risk their lives without backup, without knowing that we would be there for them."

"You yourself have been asked to go into combat where you knew there was no backup. That is always a possibility on any mission through the Stargate, is it not? And please, Major. None of us like to admit it, but we all know that there are military situations in which the life of one human being had to be considered an acceptable loss."

Sam glared at the man, angered by his words and accusations. "That wasn't the case here."

"No, in this case, it was just dumb luck that there weren't any lives lost."

"I would say it was skill, training and fortitude."

"Face it, Major Carter. You were all in a situation you shouldn't have been in, one that you _wouldn't_ have been in if the correct decisions had been made," Woolsey stated. "Case in point, after SG-13 was attacked by that drone, they should have pulled out immediately, yet they were given the order to stay. Several hours passed before General Hammond told them to return. Why such a long delay?"

"We didn't know there was a threat until we found out that the probe sent out a transmission revealing SG-13's presence on the planet. It was damaged, and it took a while to get a proper interface. And the memory crystal contained an enormous amount of information."

"So, you believe that encountering a hostile Goa'uld device on that planet wasn't grounds enough to pull out?"

"SG-13 searched the immediate area and saw no other sign of Goa'uld activity. If we pulled out of a mission every time we encountered some resistance, most missions would be scrubbed before we accomplished anything. We're in a war against the Goa'uld, Mister Woolsey. Do you expect soldiers fighting a war to run every time they encounter the enemy? That's a good way to lose a war."

"No, I expect them and their commanding officers to show some wisdom on deciding when discretion is the better part of valor."

"Look, we all did our jobs, what we were trained to do, and we all came back alive. You can sling all the mud you like, but nothing's going to change that fact. That's all I have to say."

Woolsey stared at her for a long moment, then turned off the camera. "You are dismissed for now, Major, but don't leave the base. I may wish to speak to you again."

"Fine." Sam got up and stormed out of the room.

Woolsey approached the SF that was on duty outside. "I want to speak to Doctor Jackson next."

"Yes, sir."

The moment Daniel entered the room, he knew this wasn't going to be pleasant. This proved to be true a few seconds later when Woolsey started talking.

"I've read quite a bit about what's been going on over the last three months, Doctor Jackson, and I have to say that I have some serious concerns. Ever since you gained these psychic abilities of yours, it seems that you feel as if it gives you the right to do whatever you please."

"Excuse me?" Daniel said in surprise.

"When the DOD and the NID very understandably wanted to research these abilities of yours to find out how they work and if they could be reproduced in others, you refused to allow them to run any kind of test. Then, when you were removed from SG-1, you attacked several SGC personnel and illegally traveled through the Stargate with Teal'c, thereby creating a threat to this planet since, if you had been caught and taken over by a Goa'uld, your powers would have been used against us."

"Now, wait one minute. First of all, those representatives from the DOD and the NID wanted to imprison me for the rest of my life in some kind of secured facility and turn me into a lab rat. Would you have said yes to that? Secondly, when I was removed from SG-1, I did what I thought was necessary to allow me to continue fighting the Goa'uld in the best way that I was able, something I couldn't have done sitting behind a desk. Every one of the people that Teal'c and I 'attacked' understood why we did it. The president chose not to press any charges because we did all those things for the right reason."

"The right reason? And did you allow yourself to be beamed aboard Osiris' ship, without any backup, for the right reason?"

"I didn't plan on that happening; it just did."

"Ah, and all the times that you used your abilities excessively, did they also 'just happen'?"

Daniel stared at the man. "Excessively?"

"You incinerated six Jaffa the first time you used your abilities off-world. The second time, you put on a pyrotechnic demonstration for a bunch of Jaffa. Shortly after that, you virtually set a whole meadow on fire. The next time, you blew up an entire ship. In the weeks after that, you lifted a Stargate, tossed a Goa'uld around like a play toy, destroyed not one but two ships, repeatedly threw several of Anubis' drones about, cooked one of those drones inside its own armor, and put on another show for the Jaffa. Which leads us to Sunday's incident, when you once again destroyed two ships and killed several Jaffa. You don't consider that excessive?"

"That first time was a mistake, but everything I did after that, every way that I used my abilities on those occasions that you talked about, was something I had to do or was forced to do. I was saving lives, Mister Woolsey, or doesn't that matter to you?"

"What matters to me is that you seem to be on a power trip, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel let out a laugh that was anything but amused. "Oh, believe me, Mister Woolsey, if I was on a power trip, you, the president and possibly the rest of the planet would know about it."

"What does that mean?"

"Have you read the report on what happened when we brought the Harcesis child here?"

"Yes."

"You know that dream Shifu gave me? _That_ is Daniel Jackson on a power trip. Now, granted, in that dream, I'd been essentially turned into a Goa'uld because their genetic memory took control of me, but you might as well say that all Goa'uld are on a power trip. If I really was on one, do you honestly think that I'd stay here at the SGC, where I have to be accountable to General Hammond and the president? With the power I have, I could set myself up as a god on some planet and have all the natives worshipping me. With not much effort, I could have had the _Jaffa_ worshipping me. It took a lot of talking for me to make sure that didn't happen. So, don't stand there and tell me I'm on a power trip, Mister Woolsey, because you don't know what the hell you're talking about. I never wanted these abilities; I didn't ask for them. But since I do have them, I intend to keep using them to save lives and defeat the Goa'uld."

Daniel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Now, I _thought_ we were here to talk about the mission. If you're not intending to do that, then I'm just going to go, because I didn't come here to be interrogated about how I use my abilities."

"You will leave when we are finished, Doctor Jackson. I have the authority to have you jailed if you do not cooperate."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "I did my homework, Mister Woolsey. Your authority here begins and ends with investigating Sunday's mission. You are not authorized to ask me any questions about the use of my abilities except the way that I used them on that mission. So, good luck trying to have me jailed for refusing to discuss something that you have no authority to ask me about."

Woolsey was silent for several seconds. He obviously hadn't expected Daniel to counter with a legal argument, and it was pretty clear that he wasn't happy about it.

"All right, then let's talk about what happened on the mission," he finally said. "First of all, what made you think it was safe for SG-13 to remain on the planet?"

"It's not really my call."

"But you thought it was worth risking the lives of an SG team to get an aerial survey of those ruins?"

"The immediate danger was past. The ruins appeared to be the remains of a city inhabited by the Ancients. You should know that one of our primary objectives is to find the Lost City of the Ancients. For all we knew, that could have been it. This isn't the first time that an SG team has stayed to explore a potentially dangerous area that might possibly contain something of value."

"So, you would have me believe that this was an acceptable risk?"

"This is what we do."

"Make bad decisions."

"Yeah, it's easy to predict the score when the game is over, and if we had found powerful weapons in those ruins capable of defending the planet from the Goa'uld, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"But you didn't, and we are. The fact is that this mission was botched from the beginning to the end."

"I don't know how you can stand there and say that. We won! We took everything those Jaffa threw at us and beat them, and we didn't lose a single person! How many times in history has a group of nineteen people with nothing but hand weapons gone up against an army at least five times that size, an army with bombers and attack vessels, and come away without losing even one person? I may not be a student of military history, Mister Woolsey, but I'd be willing to bet that such a thing hasn't happened very often." Daniel leaned forward. "You say the entire mission was botched? Show me the coffins to back up that statement. Show me the report that says we left in defeat. You know, it sounds to me as if you're not here to find out the truth. You're here to find evidence that can be used against us, regardless of whether or not that evidence has any basis in fact or common sense, which really shouldn't surprise me considering who's pulling your strings."

Woolsey frowned severely. "What are you implying?"

"Senator Kinsey is out to control the Stargate Program. He wants to be president, partly because it would give him that control, but things didn't quite work out that way, so he's settling for being vice president. He's bringing important financing into the campaign in an effort to make that happen. The problem is that he needs to get rid of General Hammond so that he can bring someone into the SGC who will run things the way he thinks they should be. He already tried once. This is just part of another attempt. Kinsey also wants SG-1 gone, and he figures that if he makes us look bad, the new president will see things his way and get rid of all of us. He wants you to present as damning a case against SG-1 and General Hammond as possible, putting into question our methods and our motivations." Daniel paused upon seeing the man's expression. "By the look on your face, I'm guessing that you know all or most of this as well and are wondering right now how it is that _I_ know. Two words, Mister Woolsey. I'm psychic."

With that final statement, Daniel rose to his feet and walked out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Richard Woolsey discovered very quickly that Teal'c had no patience for his manner of questioning. Angered by the man's accusations and attitude, the Jaffa walked out of the room after only a few minutes, just as he had with Emmett Bregman. But at least Bregman hadn't been in danger of severe bodily injury.

The next person to be called into the room was Janet Fraiser.

"Doctor Fraiser, is it common practice for you to personally go off-world to treat an injury?" Woolsey asked.

"No, it isn't, though I have been off-world before due to a medical situation."

"Have you ever been off-world in the middle of a battle?"

"Ah, that would be a no."

"Yet General Hammond chose to send you into the middle of a battlefield instead of one of the medics who have more experience in treating the wounded while under fire."

Janet frowned at him. "In case you didn't notice when you looked at my file, Mister Woolsey, I am a major in the United States Air Force. I may be a doctor, but that doesn't mean that I don't know how to handle myself in the kind of situation I was in on Sunday."

"No one is questioning your skills or courage, Doctor. What I am questioning is why General Hammond chose to send the SGC's Chief Medical Officer into that kind of situation. You are a very valuable member of this facility and could have been killed."

"Mister Woolsey, there are a lot of very valuable members of this facility who regularly risk their lives on missions. My life is of no greater importance than theirs. It is of no greater importance than that of Airman Wells, the young man I went on that mission to save. It was deemed that his injuries were quite severe, and General Hammond believed that my training and skills might be needed. I agree with his decision. The slightest mistake could have killed Wells or left him paralyzed. Now, I'm not saying that none of my staff could have handled it, but I'm glad that I was the one who was there."

"And if you had died? Would it have been worth that price, to you and to your family?"

Janet stared at the man. "Do you honestly believe that I'd rather have one of my staff die in my place? Yes, Mister Woolsey, it would have been worth it if my actions saved that young airman's life. Even if they didn't, I was there doing my job, what I was trained to do, the thing I swore an oath to do when I became a doctor. I would do it again in an instant."

Seeing that he was not going to get anywhere with this line of questioning, Woolsey changed tactics. "Doctor Jackson was with you while you were treating Airman Wells."

"Yes."

"Why is that? It seems to me that his . . . unique skills would have been of greater use on the battlefield."

"Colonel O'Neill couldn't spare having several men watch my back as I treated Wells. He decided that Doctor Jackson would be the best one to go with me because he'd be able to handle any trouble that came our way."

"But still, judging by how quickly Doctor Jackson handled the Jaffa and those ships once he entered the battle, it seems to me that it would have been wiser for Colonel O'Neill to go ahead and send other men with you and keep Jackson. The fighting would have ended much sooner and the threat to you and everyone else eliminated."

"At the time that Colonel O'Neill made his decision, we believed that there were only six Jaffa to contend with. It wasn't until we approached the battlefield that we realized that there were a great many more than was reported."

"And Colonel O'Neill didn't think to change his orders?"

"We were in the middle of an intense battle, Mister Woolsey. Everyone had to act quickly. We only barely had enough time to find out where Airman Wells was before everyone was rushing into battle. If Colonel O'Neill had known ahead of time that several ships and dozens more Jaffa would appear the moment we stepped through the gate, I'm sure he would have given different orders, but we don't have the luxury of being able to see the future."

"Except for Doctor Jackson, that is," Woolsey remarked snidely.

"Yes, except for Daniel, who, by the way, saved my life with that very ability."

"Oh? That was not in the preliminary report."

"Daniel had a vision warning him that I was going to be shot and killed by a Jaffa. He managed to push me out of the way barely in time. So, you see, Mister Woolsey, he was exactly where he needed to be. If he hadn't been with me, I would be dead, and this whole investigation would be quite a bit different."

"Indeed it would, Doctor Fraiser."

--------------------------------------------------

When he received a copy of the preliminary mission report of Sunday's events, it was obvious to Emmett Bregman that something had been edited out of that copy. The journalist had to wonder what was removed. But the incident with Doctor Jackson and the ghost had taught him a lesson, and he didn't attempt to find out what had been taken out.

Bregman had had no further trouble with "Casper" and was extremely grateful for that fact. He and his crew were now in the process of editing the footage that they'd filmed, putting everything together into a cohesive whole. The problem was that everything they had was yak, yak, yak, just a bunch of talking heads. There was no action, no drama. Despite his request that Doctor Jackson film some activity, the archeologist had returned from the latest mission with nothing on tape at all.

At that moment, Bregman was in the editing room alone, viewing the video that they had compiled so far. Despite all of his efforts, he never did get an interview with Colonel O'Neill, and now that the man was in the infirmary, chances were that he'd never get it. Janet Fraiser protected her patients with all the ferocity of a mother bear and wouldn't let him get near O'Neill or any of the other men injured during Sunday's mission. Bregman had to admire the woman for her dedication.

There was a knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Daniel Jackson.

"Doctor Jackson. Can I help you?"

"Well, actually, it's kind of the other way around."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been thinking about some of the things you said and what this documentary is going to say, what it _should_ say, despite the fact that the real reason for making it is political." Daniel handed Bregman an eight-millimeter video cassette.

"What's this?" the journalist asked.

"Take a look."

Bregman put the cassette in and began to play it. His mouth parted at the opening scene. The planet had three moons, which were clearly visible in the daytime sky. There was sand for as far as the eye could see, great golden dunes rising like mountains against the blue sky.

As the camera panned to the right, something came into view that made Bregman gasp. The pyramid was enormous, breathtaking, almost otherworldly. Unlike the Pyramids of Giza, this one still had its entire outer casing, making its sides smooth and perfect.

"Where is this?" Bregman asked in wonder.

"It's Abydos," Daniel answered quietly.

The journalist looked up at him, knowing the significance of that planet.

"After my wife died, I spent some time there," the archeologist explained. "I wanted something to remind me of her and the year I spent with her and her people, so I took my camera."

Understanding the personal importance of this video, Bregman turned back to it. They were now apparently inside the pyramid. The Stargate was center screen.

"Dan'yer!" came a voice off-screen. The camera turned, and Bregman saw a young man who looked to be around nineteen.

"You take my picture, Dan'yer?" the boy asked, curious brown eyes staring straight at the camera.

"Yes, Tobay, I'm taking your picture," Bregman heard Daniel say. "I'll show it to you after I'm finished, okay?"

Tobay smiled. "Okay."

The camera was panned around to show that there were several people in the chamber, men and women clearly of Egyptian descent, garbed in sand-colored robes.

After a moment, the scene changed to an enormous, torch-lit chamber. Huge, bird-headed statues stood against the walls, a representation of the Eye of Ra hanging above the floor at the far end.

"This is the map room," Daniel told the journalist.

"The room where you got all of the Stargate addresses?" Bregman asked excitedly.

"Most of them. Jack added more later from the Ancients' repository of knowledge."

The video now showed a section of wall, where rows and rows of symbols could be seen, the addresses for thousands upon thousands of Stargates. For once, Bregman didn't mind viewing video footage of inscriptions.

The next scene was that of a city in the desert.

"Nagada," Daniel said.

Inside the city were thousands of people, working and playing, living a kind of life that had disappeared from Earth hundreds of years ago. There were no cars, no televisions, no computers, no modern conveniences at all, yet the people seemed content.

The camera zoomed in on a group of children playing some kind of game in the dirt, their innocent laughter blending with the sounds of adults talking and working.

Bregman looked at Daniel, seeing an expression of terrible sadness on his face. "This is all gone now, isn't it," the journalist said.

"Yes," Daniel murmured lowly.

"All these people, they're dead?"

Daniel shook his head. "No. Not dead. There out there somewhere, where no Goa'uld can ever hurt them again."

"All of them? They all ascended?"

"Yes."

The video now showed a bearded man who looked to be in his early to mid fifties.

"That's Kasuf, my father-in-law," Daniel said.

"Good Son," Kasuf said. "These pictures you take are good?"

"Yes, Good Father, they are," Daniel's voice on the video replied.

"They show our world and our people?"

"Yes."

"And these pictures will never go away?"

"I hope not. I'll make sure that they don't. Maybe, someday, many others on Earth will see them and come to know the people of Abydos."

Kasuf nodded once. "Then I am content. It is good that you do this, that you show your Earth who we are. Sha're would be pleased."

The image shook slightly. "Yes, I think she would," Daniel's voice said, a voice that now trembled slightly with emotion.

Looking up at Daniel, Bregman saw that the man was no longer looking at the video. His face was turned to the floor, eyes closed.

"I'm sorry," the journalist said. "This must be very hard for you to watch."

"It's the first time I've watched it since I descended."

Bregman paused the video. "Doctor Jackson, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you giving this to me, but I have to ask why."

Daniel looked at the still image on the screen. "It's for them and all the people like them out in the galaxy that we do these things, men, women and children, entire civilizations, who have been victimized by the Goa'uld for millennia, forced to serve as slaves, taken against their will to act as hosts, slaughtered by the millions without conscience or remorse. We do it for them and for all of the civilizations, including Earth, that might fall to the Goa'uld if we don't put a stop to it."

"Thank you, Doctor Jackson. I promise you that I will use this footage in a way that will honor the people of Abydos. May I . . . may I quote what you just said? I think that it's an important statement and should be a part of the video."

Daniel nodded.

"How is Colonel O'Neill doing?"

"Good. He'll be released from the infirmary soon."

"That's good to hear. Um . . . I don't know how much influence you have with him, but one of the things that is missing from this documentary is him. I'd really love to get an interview."

Daniel smiled faintly. "No promises, but I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

After Daniel left, Bregman turned back to the screen and finished watching the video of a world and a culture that was no more, thinking that maybe this documentary wasn't going to be so bad after all.

--------------------------------------------------

Hammond walked into the 'interrogation room' and tossed a file on the table before Woolsey.

"I've prepared a written testimony," he said.

Woolsey picked up the file and looked at it. "This is your detailed mission report."

"I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone."

"Well then, I guess I'm done."

"Then you'll be leaving."

"The president will have my preliminary report by the end of the week."

"I'm sure it will be every bit as interesting as your memo on the economics of the SGC," Hammond told him.

Woolsey stared at the general. "I won't bother asking how you got that."

"What was the dollar value you attributed to an SG team member?"

"You know damn well I wasn't pegging the value of a person's life. It is a cold hard fact that it costs millions of dollars to train these men and women, and that is a fraction of the funds being subverted by the Pentagon for this operation." Woolsey rose to his feet. "I think it is reprehensible that the taxpayers of this country are paying enormous sums of money to wage a war they know nothing about and are getting little, if anything, in return. If the Stargate's existence were public knowledge and your actions were being judged in the court of public opinion--"

"You're the one suggesting that sending a rescue team worth twenty-seven million dollars to save the life of one man is a bad business decision."

"You're putting words in my mouth," Woolsey said angrily.

"You said it in black and white, and I don't think you would dare do such a thing if this wasn't a classified operation. The president has asked a documentary team to get to the truth of what is going on around here. Why don't we just go down and give them the whole truth as you see it, right now."

Woolsey closed his files, glaring at the general. "That memo is classified, this investigation is classified, and if you so much as utter even a hint of either, I'll see you are put away in a cold, dark place for the rest of time."

Files in hand, Woolsey headed for the door.

"One last thing, Mister Woolsey," Hammond said.

The man paused and turned around.

"I am damn proud of the men and women under my command," the general told him. "No one more so than the members of SG-1. What they and the others with them did on Sunday was a triumph in a war that has taken far too many lives. I know what you said to them and what you accused them of, and it appalls me that a man like you has been placed in a position to judge people of such fine character and unswerving courage. Daniel Jackson, for one, is one of the finest, most honorable men I have ever had the privilege of knowing. That you would accuse him of the things you did is what's truly reprehensible here, Mister Woolsey. And you should think about this. If what you said about him was even remotely true, God help us all, because I sure wouldn't want that man out using his abilities for his own pleasure or gain."

"Well, let's hope that your faith in him is not misplaced, General, because I, for one, have to say that his power is not something that should be in the hands of any man."

With a last look at Hammond, Woolsey turned and walked out the door.

--------------------------------------------------

Jack slowly and carefully changed into his clothes. He was very sore, but, thanks to the vest insert, he was alive.

Jack had heard all about what happened on the planet after he was hit, how Daniel had saved Janet Fraiser's life, then proceeded to blast Jaffa right and left and bring down two ships. Looking back on the mission, Jack knew that the smart thing to do would have been to keep Daniel with him and send two or three others with Janet. With Daniel there, they could have taken care of the Jaffa rather quickly. But, by the time Jack realized that the situation was a whole lot hotter than he'd been led to believe, there wasn't a lot of time to make sudden changes in the plan. And there was something else to take into consideration. It was possible that, even if Daniel had been with them on the battlefield right from the start, that Jaffa may have gotten through and killed Janet. Jack was pretty sure it was the one he'd seen sneaking through the trees, the one he'd been going after when he was shot. Looking at it that way, Jack was very glad that he'd made the decision he did.

There was a knock on the door, and a moment later, Daniel, Sam and Teal'c came in.

"Hey," Daniel greeted with a smile. "We heard that you were up and around."

Jack pulled down his T-shirt. "Yeah. Still a little tender, but the doc said I could go home."

"We're lucky that staff blast hit you where it did," Sam said. "That new vest insert works well."

"I have no complaints, though a bit more padding would be nice. So, I heard about this Woolsey who was asking questions about the mission. I suppose that the only reason I didn't get grilled by him is that Fraiser wouldn't let him come within twenty feet of me."

"Count yourself lucky, sir," Sam said darkly.

"That bad?"

"First, he made it sound like we're a bunch of incompetent fools who cower behind Daniel whenever things get dangerous, then he had the nerve to suggest that we should have just abandoned Wells, that it was a bad move to send more troops in to rescue him. Then he talked as if he thinks that we should go running back to Earth whenever we encounter a risky situation. Pardon me for saying so, sir, but the guy's an ass."

"Well, at least you weren't accused of being a criminal on a murderous, rampaging power trip," Daniel grumbled.

His teammates turned to him in surprise.

"He actually said that?" Jack asked.

"Pretty much."

"Sounds like the guy's an idiot as well as an ass. It would have served him right if you'd given him a third degree sunburn."

"Oh, believe me, I was tempted. Maybe not the sunburn, but I was wondering how he'd like it if 'Casper' had a go at him."

"That sounds like it would have been a good idea to me."

"Yeah. Too bad he's not here anymore," Sam muttered.

Jack's eyebrows rose. "Carter, I can't remember you ever being vindictive before."

"Well, he made me mad, sir. We all did a damn fine job out there, and he twisted it around to make it appear like it was one big mistake and that we were not only incompetent but also negligent in our duty."

Jack looked at the third member of his team. "So, what did he say to you, T?"

"I do not wish to speak of it," the Jaffa replied. "If Mister Woolsey were on Chulak I would have taken great pleasure in dismembering him."

"Ooh, that bad, huh?"

"It was most unpleasant."

"Sounds like the guy is in Kinsey's pocket."

"I just hope that the president doesn't believe the things he's claiming," Sam said.

"I'm not worried about our present one. After all, he's been pretty happy with the job we've been doing all these years, at least most of the time. It's the new president that concerns me. If Hayes gets elected, with Kinsey as his vice president, we could be in for trouble. Kinsey wants all of us out, and, as vice president, he might just have the power to do it."

"I have a feeling we might have to prepare for that," Daniel said.

Jack looked at him narrowly. "A 'feeling' as in a gut feeling or a 'feeling' as in the old spidey sense is tingling again?"

"Let's just say that Spiderman would be worried, too."

"Oh, joy."

Daniel paused. "Um . . . I need to talk to you about something."

"Do you want Teal'c and me to leave?" Sam asked.

"No, it's okay. It's about Bregman."

"That weasel?" Jack said.

"He's not a weasel, Jack. Yes, he's too nosy for his own good and doesn't like to take no for an answer. He can also be obnoxious and irritating as hell. But he's not a bad person."

Surprised, Jack stared at him. "Okay, so what made you change your tune about him?"

"He said some things that got me to thinking, and I've come to see a different side of him. None of us like the idea of him being here. We don't like the thought of this documentary being made. But it is being made, regardless of how we feel, so we need to make sure that it's done right, that, if some day in the future it is seen by the public, they'll understand what it is that we're doing here, how important it is." Daniel was silent for a moment. "I gave him the video of Abydos."

"What?" Sam said in surprise. "Daniel, that's so personal."

"It also shows why we do these things, what we're fighting for," Daniel explained. "All the people like the Abydonians who are out there in the galaxy, people we have saved and who we have yet to save, people we . . . didn't save, they are why we do this. It's not just for Earth, it's for them, too. That's what I want the people who see this documentary to know."

Daniel's teammates didn't say anything for a while, absorbing his words.

"I guess you do have a point," Sam admitted. "Since this thing is going to be done, we should make sure it is done right."

Daniel looked at Jack. "Bregman asked me to talk to you about your interview. I'm not going to tell you what you should do--"

"Well, _that's_ a first," Jack interrupted.

Ignoring him, Daniel continued. "Just think about it, okay?"

Jack sighed. "All right, I'll think about it."

"I, too, must reconsider my actions in regards to Mister Bregman," Teal'c said. "Daniel Jackson is correct that we must strive to see that those who watch this documentary know of the importance of our fight. There is much that I could say about the Goa'uld and my people."

"And I guess that there are a few other things I could say," Sam admitted.

Jack looked back and forth among his teammates for a few seconds, then sighed explosively. "Oh, all right! I'll do the damn interview. But I am _not_ going to answer any questions that I don't want to."

--------------------------------------------------

And so it was that Emmett Bregman was made a happy man, well, as happy as he could be without the action footage that he really wanted. He was surprised enough when Jack O'Neill came for his interview, but he was downright shocked when Teal'c came up to him, saying that he was now ready to speak with him. On top of that, Bregman got some more good footage with Major Carter.

The journalist knew that he had Daniel to thank for the sudden cooperation of the man's teammates and felt even sorrier that he'd gone behind the archeologist's back like he had. He was still very curious about what secret Daniel and everyone else was hiding, but he was not going to pursue it. He owed the man that much and more.

Bregman and his camera crew were coming back from filming some background shots when the journalist caught sight of Daniel.

"Doctor Jackson!" he called.

"Hey," Daniel said with a slight smile.

"I want to thank you for getting your teammates to talk to me."

"I didn't really. I just told them what I thought about this documentary, and they decided on their own."

"Well, thank you anyway." Bregman glanced at the camera. "Uh, would you mind if we got a last statement from you?"

"Uhhh . . . no, I guess not," Daniel replied hesitantly.

"I promise I won't ask anything I shouldn't."

The linguist gave a nod. "Okay."

"Do . . . you think that General Hammond would mind if we did the filming in the gate room?"

"I don't know. We could ask."

Since there were no teams due back and no missions scheduled for the day, General Hammond gave permission for them to film in the gate room. The camera was quickly set up. Bregman had Daniel stand on the ramp to the Stargate in such a way that the camera could be zoomed out to show both him and the gate.

"Okay," Bregman said, thinking for a moment about what he wanted to ask. "Doctor Jackson, as the . . . as the visionary who figured out the truth about the pyramids long before any of us knew what was out there in the universe, as the man who opened the Stargate for our world and made all this possible, what is your wish for the future? What do you want to see happen with the Stargate and the Stargate Program?"

"I want to see us succeed in what we're trying to do. I want to see us put an end to the threat that the Goa'uld pose to all human beings and all the other races who only wish to live free and in peace."

"And if that ever happens? What next?"

"The Goa'uld aren't the only evil that's out there. There is so much more for us to do in that regard. But, beyond that, there are friends and allies for us to make, worlds, peoples and cultures beyond our imagining for us to find, learn about and explore. I hope that, someday, the Stargate will primarily be a . . . a bridge to the wonders and diversity of the universe." Daniel's face lit with passion. "This . . ." he waved his hands at the Stargate, "this device is a gateway to the greatest dreams of any archeologist, linguist, historian or explorer. There is so, so much out there for us to learn, to experience . . . meaning of life stuff! And if a time ever does come when the Stargate is made public, I hope that the people of Earth will recognize it as the wondrous thing that it is and know that everyone here at the SGC has done their very best to use it in the way that it should be used and have fought to maintain the integrity of the human race as we went out there into the galaxy."

Bregman nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you, Doctor Jackson. Speaking personally, I hope that such a day does come and that I live to see it." He motioned for the camera to be shut off, then stepped toward Daniel. They shook hands.

"Thank you, for everything, Doctor Jackson," the journalist said. "In case we don't see each other again, I just wanted to say that it was a privilege meeting you."

"Thank you."

Bregman started to turn away, then paused. "Oh, and if you should ever, uh . . . talk to Casper, tell it . . . no hard feelings, all right?"

Daniel smiled. "I'll do that, Mister Bregman."

Daniel stayed in the gate room as the journalist and his crew left. A few seconds passed, then, all at once, everyone in the control room and gate room began clapping. Embarrassed, Daniel looked up to see Jack, Sam, Teal'c and General Hammond looking down at him through the observation window.

The general leaned forward and spoke into the microphone. "Bravo, Doctor Jackson. I couldn't have said it better myself."


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Mister Woolsey. Come in, sit down," Senator Kinsey said cordially to the man who had just been ushered into his office. Woolsey took a seat on the other side of the desk.

"So, did you give your preliminary report to the president?" Kinsey asked.

"Yes, sir. It will take some time to put together my final report."

"Just as long as it's finished by the time Hayes and I assume office."

"Aren't you jumping ahead of yourself, Senator? You have to be elected first."

Kinsey waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about that. I have complete confidence that we'll win. Haven't you looked at the polls recently?"

Woolsey frowned. "Being ahead in the polls doesn't guarantee a victory, as you should know."

"Never mind about that now. You asked to see me for a reason, I assume."

"Yes. As you suspected, General Hammond and all of the members of SG-1 that I was able to talk to were completely uncooperative. I could not speak with Colonel O'Neill because of his injury, but I have no doubt that he'd have shared the attitude of his teammates. There is one thing in particular that I felt I needed to tell you, though. It's concerning Doctor Jackson."

The senator leaned forward in his chair, eyes suddenly piercing into Woolsey. "What is it?"

"He demonstrated a knowledge of certain facts that, quite frankly, took me by surprise. Some of the things he could have figured out by putting the pieces together, but there were other things he knew that he shouldn't have."

"Such as?"

Woolsey told the Senator what Daniel had said at the end of the interrogation. Kinsey was frowning deeply by the time he was finished.

"If Doctor Jackson's psychic abilities really are what enabled him to find out this information, he could prove to be a problem," Woolsey said. "To be honest, the thought that he is able to . . . divine things that should be secret is very disturbing."

The senator was silent for several seconds, then said, "Don't worry about Doctor Jackson. He isn't going to pose a problem."

"How can you be sure?"

The dark cast to his features lightened as Kinsey put on a small smile. "What can he do to ruin things? Psychically change the way everyone in the country votes? Once I'm vice president, there is nothing that he can do to stop me from carrying out my plans."

"But still--"

"Think nothing more about it," Kinsey interrupted. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some other business to attend to."

Woolsey hesitated, then stood and left. The moment he was gone, Kinsey dropped all pretense of a smile. He unlocked one of the desk drawers and pulled out a cell phone, one whose number was listed under a false name and could not be traced back to him. He dialed a number and waited for the call to connect.

"This is Kinsey. Go ahead with the project," he said to the man who answered.

"Right."

The senator hung up and put the phone back in the drawer, a look of satisfaction on his face.

--------------------------------------------------

General Hammond watched the final cut of the documentary, surprised and greatly impressed. It was much better than he had thought it would be. The story of the Stargate Program and its history was being told in a manner that made it come alive for the listener. The various interviews and facts were being presented in a way that blended them into a smooth, cohesive whole, yet was never dull.

As Hammond continued to watch, the documentary got to the interview that Daniel had given in the gate room. At one point, when the archeologist gestured at the Stargate, the view zoomed out to show the entire gate, framing the archeologist perfectly. Hammond couldn't help but think that it was fitting to show the man who opened the Stargate in such a way.

"Doctor Jackson's wish for peace is one shared by every person in the Stargate Program," the narrator said as various SGC personnel were shown doing their jobs. The view switched to a starlit sky. "But, until that day comes, billions out in the galaxy continue to suffer at the hands of the Goa'uld, and billions more may soon share their fate."

The general was shocked when the scene changed to show what was clearly off-world footage. Where had Bregman gotten this? Hammond was about to ask, when the narrator answered his question.

"This is Abydos, a world hundreds of light-years from Earth," the male voice said, "the first world to be visited when the Stargate was reopened in 1995."

Hearing the name Abydos, the general knew that this footage could have only come from one person: Daniel Jackson.

The view panned to the spectacular sight of a huge pyramid.

"Many thousands of years ago, a Goa'uld stole hundreds of people from Ancient Egypt and brought them to this planet to act as slaves," the narrator explained. "Slaves they remained until forces from Earth freed them in the autumn of 1995." The screen now showed the Stargate inside the pyramid.

The next view was of an ancient city in the desert. It then switched to various scenes of the Abydonian people within the city as the narrator continued speaking. "For thousands of years, the world of the Abydonians remained unchanged, a living example of a culture that disappeared from Earth hundreds of years ago. They had no modern conveniences of any kind, none of the things that we on Earth take for granted, yet they were content with what they had. Their children played in the street much as ours do." The screen showed a group of young children playing. "Their women worked to prepare food for their families." A woman grinding some kind of floor could now be seen. "Their men worked with their hands and primitive tools to keep their families sheltered." The view changed to several men up on the roof of a building, making repairs.

"Abydos was a world rich with history and culture." Scenes of artwork, hieroglyphic inscriptions, and examples of architecture paraded by on the screen, culminating in a magnificent chamber that would be the dream of many an archeologist.

The view focused on a beautiful little girl with long black hair and enormous brown eyes. The child turned to the camera and smiled. The image froze on that scene, then went black.

"It is now gone," said the narrator in a low voice. "In February of 2003, Abydos was destroyed by the Goa'uld. The children of Abydos will never again play upon its streets. Their fathers and mothers will never again tuck them into bed at night. The air will no longer ring with the sound of people working and playing amidst a wonderful and vibrant culture. In the space of a few seconds, it was all wiped out forever."

The blank screen changed to a view of a spiral galaxy. "Such wanton acts of destruction have been committed many, many times by the Goa'uld, a race without conscience or compassion."

Scenes of the Abydonians returned to the screen, woven in with views of people from around the Earth. "It is the Abydonians and other victims like them and all of the countless billions still living upon Earth and in the rest of the galaxy that the men and women of the SGC fight for every day in a ceaseless battle to put an end to a terrible evil. Doctor Daniel Jackson expressed it best when he said, 'It's for them and all the people like them out in the galaxy that we do these things, men, women and children, entire civilizations, who have been victimized by the Goa'uld for millennia, forced to serve as slaves, taken against their will to act as hosts, slaughtered by the millions without conscience or remorse. We do it for them and for all of the civilizations, including Earth, that might fall to the Goa'uld if we don't put a stop to it.'"

The scenes faded away as the image of an American flag waving in the wind came onscreen. "The words of Doctor Jackson remind us all of how much we owe to our armed forces and the civilians who work beside them." Still shots of several SG teams were now being shown as the flag continued to be faintly visible. "They have turned the tide of world wars. Young men and women from our great country's four corners have humbled history's worse times. We carve our thanks in stone. We stamp it into metals. We carefully tend to the vast fields where the men and women who gave their lives for our freedom now lay. More than ever in our history, we cannot fail to pass these stories of courage to the next generation." A view of the spinning Stargate as seen through the observation window showed on the screen. "We must capture their imaginations while paying tribute to all those willing to die for the preservation of our way of life." As the final words were spoken, the blast doors closed and the image faded to black.

"It's a shame no one's ever going to see it," Hammond said in a soft voice, turning to Bregman.

"Really?" the journalist responded, surprised. "You, uh . . ." he turned off the VCR, "you don't think it's a little sentimental?"

"No. It's good."

"Well, that's . . . a relief . . . hearing that from you of all people, especially given how you felt about what I was doing. I mean, I understood how you felt, but still. . . ."

Hammond got up and came around the desk to shake hands with the journalist, who got to his feet as well. "I'm a big enough man to admit when I'm wrong. I'm glad you stuck with it."

"That . . . means a lot to me, sir."

"I've . . . written a lot of letters to the next of kin. Nothing ever seems like it's enough. They deserve more. This is something more."

"Thank you, sir. I really hope that, someday, the American public will get to see this documentary so that they'll all know what you people are doing for us."

A short while later, Emmett Bregman pulled his car away from the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Before it completely disappeared from view, the journalist pulled over and got out of his car. He looked back at the enormous opening in the side of the mountain, thinking of the wonders that lay beyond that only a relative handful of people on Earth even knew existed. Smiling at the fact that he was one of those lucky few, Bregman got back in his car and drove away.

--------------------------------------------------

Proving that there was never a dull moment at the SGC, a mere two days later, Agent Malcolm Barrett contacted Stargate Command about something the NID had discovered in a warehouse in Los Angeles, the site of a massacre that killed thirty-two people. This led to Daniel, Sam, Teal'c, Doctor Lee and Agent Barrett finding out that a rogue NID sleeper cell had been playing God and created a Goa'uld/human hybrid. In the end, the hybrid, a woman named Anna, killed the only surviving scientist on the project, then herself, destroying any chance of finding out who was behind the project. The three members of SG-1 and Agent Barrett all knew that, whoever those people were, sooner or later, they'd cause trouble again.

Daniel, Sam and Teal'c had gotten back to Colorado Springs late last night. Within minutes of the archeologist's arrival home, he had received a call from Jack, who wanted to know all about what happened. The colonel was presently on desk duty by order of Doctor Fraiser, who was refusing to let him return to full active duty until given a clean bill of health. Needless to say, Jack was feeling rather restless and impatient. Daniel had no doubt that there would be more questions once he got to work. The mission debriefing would definitely be an interesting one.

Checking his watch, Daniel saw that he needed to hurry. Grabbing his car keys, he headed to the door. As he opened it, something made him pause. For the last few days, his "spidey sense" had been tingling like mad. When they went to Los Angeles, Daniel had figured that what happened there was what had set it off. But, now, it had suddenly started back up with a vengeance, which meant that something else was wrong.

With extreme caution, Daniel left his house, locking the door behind him. As he headed down the walkway, he looked around, eyes searching for anything amiss. Two houses down, he saw a lawn maintenance service truck and two guys getting ready to start working on the person's yard. Even as Daniel watched, one man started a lawnmower at the same time as the other started a weed wacker, breaking the quiet morning stillness with the awful racket. Other than that, no one was in sight.

As Daniel approached his car, he saw that someone had smashed a beer bottle or two in the street. Pieces of glass were strewn all about, some of them in front of his car.

With a sigh, Daniel fetched an empty coffee cup from his car and carefully started picking up the pieces, putting them in the cup.

"How many bottles did they break?" Daniel muttered to himself as he kept picking up glass, the cup already nearly full even though there was still a lot of glass on the street.

Daniel was bent over, reaching for one of the big pieces when his sixth sense suddenly screamed a warning at him. He turned and looked up to see a car barreling down on him, the sound of its engine covered by the lawn equipment.

With reflexes honed by his years fighting the Goa'uld, Daniel threw himself backwards, rolling toward the cover of his car. The speeding vehicle raced past mere inches from him and continued up the street, not slowing. It swerved a few times, as if the driver was not fully in control, then screeched around the corner, nearly taking out the fire hydrant.

Heart racing at the near miss, Daniel sat for a moment on the pavement, then got up.

"Hey, Mister! You all right?" called one of the men who had been working on the neighbor's yard. The lawnmower and weed wacker were now silent. "Damn drunk driver. He was going all over the street."

"Yes, I'm fine," Daniel answered. "Thanks." He looked down. The glass he'd so painstakingly collected had fallen back onto the street. Deciding that it was just going to have to stay where it was until someone else swept it up, Daniel fetched the empty coffee cup from the road and got in his car. He sat there, thinking about what had just happened. A drunk driver. As dangerous as Daniel's job was on some days, it seemed almost strange that he would nearly be killed by something as commonplace as a drunk driver. He didn't think that it could be anything more than that. Who here on Earth would have a reason to kill him? Daniel really didn't want to think that could be a possibility.

The archeologist knew that, if he told Jack about this, the colonel would instantly be transformed back into the Mother Hen from Hell. Daniel really didn't want to go through that again, so he decided to keep it to himself.

Decision made, Daniel started his car, backed it up a few feet, then pulled forward around the glass, heading toward the base.

--------------------------------------------------

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Sam asked Janet as they sat eating their lunch.

The doctor didn't answer for a brief moment. "What did Daniel tell you about the vision he had concerning me?"

"Nothing, really, though it was apparently very upsetting to him. I know that he saw you die, but that's it."

Janet relayed to Sam exactly what Daniel had told her, his vision of her death and memorial service.

"My God," Sam murmured, more than a little shaken. She had to wonder if, in some alternate universe, Daniel hadn't succeeded in saving Janet. That thought saddened her greatly.

"Since that whole thing happened, I've been thinking about a lot of things," Janet said. "We never want to think about what would happen to our family if something should happen to us. Cassie is eighteen, pretty much a grown woman. She'd be in college right now if she hadn't decided to wait a year to make up her mind what major she wanted to pursue and to earn some money. But she is still so young."

"Janet, if you're asking if I'll watch out for her if something happens to you, you don't even have to ask."

"I know that, Sam. It's more than that. Most of my estate will go to Cassie if I die, including the house and my savings. In my present will, the estate was to be held in trust until Cassie turned eighteen, but I realize now that that needs to be changed, perhaps to twenty-one. It's not that I don't trust her to be responsible with the money if I was to die tomorrow, but there's still a mortgage on the house, which means that it will probably have to be sold, and I also want to make sure that she stays in college. I don't want her future ruined if something happens to me. Right now, I have things set up with a corporate fiduciary to be both executor and trustee since I didn't want to burden any of my friends with that responsibility, but I've been giving it a lot of thought, and I'd really like to have someone do it that knows me and Cassie." She looked into Sam's eyes. "I'm asking if you would be willing to be co-executor and trustee with Daniel."

Surprised, Sam said nothing for a long moment. "Janet, I don't know what to say. I'm flattered that you'd want to give me this kind of responsibility."

"That's the thing, Sam. It is a big responsibility and could be pretty time consuming. That's one of the reasons why I was thinking of having both you and Daniel be the fiduciaries. But there's the issue of when you guys go on missions, especially ones when you'll be gone several days. Now, I think it is possible that I could make you and Daniel co-fiduciaries along with a corporate one, which would relieve some of the burden on you. I'd just like you to think about it."

"All right, I will. Have you asked Daniel yet?"

"No, not yet. I wanted to approach you separately about this so that neither of you would feel pressured to say yes if the other person did."

"Okay, I'll think about it for a few days." Sam looked at her watch. "I've really got to get going. I have to run some diagnostics on the system that regulates power flow to the gate. The technicians detected a minor glitch. There's a mission scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning, so I have to be sure everything's working properly. I really shouldn't even have taken the time to eat, but it was nice having lunch with you," she looked down at her half-eaten sandwich, "well, _half_ a lunch with you."

Janet smiled. "Take it with you. You skip too many meals as it is."

"Yes, Doctor Fraiser," Sam responded with a smile. Sandwich in one hand, empty tray in the other, she left the table and went off back to work.

--------------------------------------------------

It had been a relatively quiet day for Daniel. Of course, "quiet" at the SGC merely meant that no life and death crises had arisen. As usual, he'd been busy with artifacts and translations, which always seemed to stack up when he was gone, even when it was just for a day.

Daniel had received one big surprise today when Janet approached him about being co-fiduciary with Sam for her estate. He had been stunned by the request, never having considered that Janet would ask him to do the important job of being both executor and trustee of her estate. He'd promised her that he'd think about it.

Janet's unexpected request had gotten Daniel's mind off the fact that his sixth sense was continuing to send him a mild warning about something. It had never bothered him this much before. Except for a short respite, it had been nudging him continually for the past week. Something was definitely up. He'd already tried once to find out what the problem was, with no success. Maybe it was time to try again.

Daniel leaned back and closed his eyes. With the ease of much practice, he reached the state of mind he needed to be in, but, no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to "see" anything. This was not the first time that he'd failed when trying to bring on a vision, but it was the first time that he hadn't been able to see anything at all. No, actually, when he tried a few days ago to find out what was wrong, he'd had the same results. So, what did this mean? Was he losing his precognitive abilities? How could that be possible?

With a sigh, Daniel opened his eyes. Whatever had his sixth sense in an uproar, he was just going to have to hope that, when it happened, he had time to do something about it.

The feeling of Jack's presence pulled Daniel's attention away from his thoughts. The colonel appeared in the doorway a few seconds later.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey. How are you feeling today?"

"Well enough to be back on active duty."

"Not according to Janet."

"Yeah, well, what does she know?"

"So, are you here just to complain or was there another purpose to this visit?"

Jack came up to the desk. "I was thinking that you could come over tonight, maybe catch a game, shoot the breeze for a while."

Though Jack's tone was casual, Daniel sensed that the man really wanted him to come over. "Um, sure, I can do that."

Jack smiled slightly. "Good. Shall we say around seven?"

"That's fine. Do you want me to bring dinner?"

"Nope. I'll take care of it."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

After the colonel had left, Daniel resumed working, wondering what Jack wanted to talk to him about.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

It was shortly after seven when Daniel arrived at Jack's place. He rapped on the door a couple of times, then walked in, where he was greeted with the smell of Chinese food.

"You're just in time," Jack said. "The kid just delivered our dinner a couple of minutes ago."

The colonel got two plates while Daniel fetched the silverware. They dished out their food and ate in silence for a few minutes.

"So, I read your report on the stuff that went down in L.A.," Jack said. "I suppose it's a given that, whoever was behind that whole thing, we'll be tangling with them again. We were constantly butting heads with the NID when they were getting into mischief."

"Yeah, that's what I figured. The thing with the NID, though, is that they had to be a lot more cautious in what they did since not everyone in the NID was part of their group. These guys don't have to worry about that."

"Which means that they could end up being an even bigger pain in the ass."

"Yep."

Daniel and Jack finished eating, then rinsed off the dishes. Jack turned on the TV and flipped it to a channel with a hockey game. The archeologist could see that the game was more than half-over but didn't say anything. If Jack wanted to talk, Daniel would just have to be patient and wait until the man was ready.

The two men watched the game with Jack's usual comments, complaints and cheers accompanying the sounds from the TV.

As the game ended a while later, Jack started flipping through channels. "So, wanna watch a movie?"

"Jack," Daniel said quietly.

The colonel didn't look at him. "Hmm?"

"Why am I here?"

That made Jack look at him. "I seem to recall you asking that question once before."

Daniel knew that he was talking about their talk in his tent on Vis Uban. "Yes, and, like that time, I'm not asking about the meaning of life."

"You're here because I invited you over. Did you have something more pressing to do?"

"No, I didn't, but you didn't ask me to come over just to eat and watch TV with you."

Jack turned off the TV and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. "Okay, you're right. There is something I want to talk to you about. I'm just not sure how to broach it."

"Why don't you try your usual straightforward manner?"

"All right. I was talking with Ferretti a while ago, and he told me that the guys all think that you're going to be offered your own command."

Daniel sat in stunned silence for several seconds. "M-my own command? Of an SG team?"

"Yep."

"An archeological team?"

"No, most likely a first contact team."

"But I'm a civilian. How could I be put in command of a military team?"

"It could be done. Heck, if they wanted to, they could put a civilian in command of the SGC."

Daniel fell silent again, eyes staring off at nothing.

"Would you want that?"

Jack's question brought the archeologist's attention back to him. "What?"

"Would you want to lead your own team? If you were the team leader, you could pretty much handle missions the way you wanted to, well, as long as Hammond didn't object to something. If you wanted to spend an extra day in some ruins, you'd only have to ask him. And you could take as much time as you wanted to make nice with the natives, no more having to cut it short because I got impatient."

"Jack."

The colonel continued as if he hadn't heard Daniel. "Of course, with leadership comes a lot of responsibility. You're completely responsible for the men under your command. It isn't an easy job--"

"Jack!" Daniel said more loudly. This time, Jack halted his rundown of pros and cons. When he met Daniel's eyes, the archeologist realized that Jack was worried, afraid that Daniel would want a team of his own.

"Jack, I don't want a team of my own."

"You don't?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Several reasons. The biggest one is that I don't want to leave SG-1." Daniel looked at Jack more closely. "Did you honestly believe that I'd want to leave the team?"

"I wasn't sure. I mean, I know you like being on SG-1, but it would be your own team, Daniel, one that you could mold the way you wanted. You'd have full control over who got put on it. You could pick a bunch of wiz kids who could actually keep up with you when you go into professor mode . . . well, _almost_ keep up with you."

"What fun would that be?" Daniel asked with a little smile. "Can you imagine commanding a team of people who are all trying to show off how smart they are?"

"Good point."

"Jack, the thing that makes SG-1 strong is our diversity, our differing strengths, skills and viewpoints. Yes, it drives me nuts when you refuse to consider my point of view, but that doesn't mean that I'm not satisfied with the way things are on SG-1. Besides, I really can't picture myself leading an SG team."

"_I_ can."

Daniel gaped at him. "You can?"

"I'll admit that if this topic had arisen several months ago, I'd have said that you'd be great at leading an archeological team, but a first contact team? I couldn't have pictured that. But things are different now."

"Because of my abilities."

"It's not your abilities themselves, Daniel, though they sure would make it easier for you to keep your team all in one piece. It's the way that you've changed since all this started."

Daniel looked away from him. "Teal'c told me that I've changed, too."

"What exactly did he say?"

Feeling rather self-conscious, Daniel replied, "That I've, uh, become a leader."

Jack nodded. "It doesn't surprise me that he saw it, too."

Daniel shook his head. "I just don't see myself like that. I don't see myself leading a team on a mission, I mean not the kinds of missions that we end up doing quite often. If it was just a meet and greet or an exploratory mission, then, yes, maybe I could do that. . . ."

"But not a military mission, one where we're going off to kick some Goa'uld ass."

"Yeah."

"Why is that? After all these years, you've got the whole military thing down pat. You're as good a shot with both a sidearm and a P-90 as most people who are in the armed forces, better than some. You know all the hand signals and terms. You know how we operate. You _definitely_ know how we think. You've butted heads with us military-minded guys enough times to know that. There have been plenty of times when any outsider watching us would have no clue that you were a civilian." Jack stopped when he saw the way Daniel's expression had changed and how his gaze was now focused on his hands. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"Uh uh. You're not getting away with that this time. Come on, spill."

Daniel gave a soft sigh. "You remember what I said there in the gate room in that last interview with Bregman, all that stuff about using the Stargate to explore and discover the wonders of the universe?"

Jack nodded.

Daniel looked at him. "Did you ever wonder why I unburied the gate on Abydos?"

"I never really thought that much about it."

"I did it because I wanted to explore, Jack. When I found that room with the cartouches and realized what they were, I was so excited. I was thinking of all the thousands of worlds that were out there, worlds with peoples and cultures to study, archeological wonders to explore, new and long lost languages to find. That's what I am, Jack, an archeologist, and a linguist, and an anthropologist. And, in my heart, an explorer, too." Daniel's eyes left Jack again. "Before I ascended, during that last year or so, I was starting to feel . . . lost."

"Lost?"

"Think about those last couple of years, Jack. How often were my skills and knowledge, the stuff I went to college for, really used? A handful of times. Oh, I got plenty of use out of my diplomatic and negotiation skills, but I wasn't trained as either a diplomat or a negotiator, and I certainly never intended that I'd become the SGC's lead diplomat."

"You are because you're damn good at it," Jack told him. "I've dealt with my share of diplomats in the past, Daniel, and you leave most of them in the dust. I doubt that many of them could have negotiated a treaty with a bunch of Unas."

"The point is, Jack, that, toward the end, I was forgetting who I was," Daniel said, finally looking at him again. "I was being turned into a soldier, something I _never_ wanted to be. I never wanted to learn how to shoot a P-90 or how to fight in hand-to-hand combat or other things like that. When I joined SG-1, it was to find Sha're, not fight the Goa'uld. After the first couple of times that we went on a mission, I found a second reason for going through the gate: the chance to explore, to learn, to use my skills and knowledge of archeology, anthropology and linguistics. It was this amazing journey to me, a dream come true that I could never have imagined. But, along the way, after Sha're died, I lost that dream and a big part of myself as well."

"I had no idea you felt like that," Jack said, upset to hear his friend saying those things. "I didn't know it had gotten that bad. I guess I thought that you were . . . going with the flow, accepting the way that our missions and your role on the team were changing. Is that how you still feel?"

Daniel's head shook. "No. Yes, I still wish that I had more opportunities to use those skills and my knowledge on missions, but I've come to accept that the most important thing I'm doing out there is helping to stop the Goa'uld and free the human race from enslavement. I guess you could say that I'm . . . content with my role on SG-1 and in the SGC."

"But?"

"But for me to be the leader of a military team would be like saying that I really am just a soldier."

"Okay, let's get a couple of things straight, Daniel," Jack said on a no-nonsense voice. "First of all, you are _not_ a soldier. Yes, you have become a damn fine warrior, but you are not now nor could ever be a soldier. A soldier is . . . well, _you_ know what a soldier is. You're a lot better at words and what they mean than I am, and you should know that the definition of a soldier does not fit you. And I'm not just talking about the fact that you have a problem with obeying orders and do things pretty much the way you see fit whenever possible. Second, you could never be _just_ a soldier. Correction, just a _warrior_. Even if you never picked up another artifact or translated another language, you'd still be a hell of a lot more than just a guy who's skilled at warfare. You will always be so much more than that, and leading your own team wouldn't change that." Jack paused a moment. "Do you look at me as just a soldier, or, rather, just an airman?"

"No, of course not," Daniel quickly replied. "I know there's more to you than that."

"Then what makes you think that being in command of an SG team would somehow make you less than what you are now?"

Daniel didn't reply. He really didn't know what to say. Logically, he knew that Jack was right. Even if he was to take command of an SG team, he'd still be an archeologist, and a linguist, and all the other things that he was now.

"Well, it doesn't really matter anyway," he finally said. "Despite what the guys think, there's no way that anyone is going to offer me command of my own team."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. I think that, sooner or later, someone up the chain of command is going to realize the advantages of having a team with you as its leader."

Daniel frowned deeply. "I don't understand. What are you getting at?"

"Think about what's been going on lately. You manage to single-handedly capture a Goa'uld and bring back her ship with her. You take control of the situation at the Alpha Site and save a hell of a lot of lives. You have the entire Jaffa rebellion ready to follow you into hell. And, most recently, you manage to completely turn the tide of a battle in under a minute, sending the Jaffa running with their tails tucked between their legs. If I was some general at the Pentagon, I'd look at all you've done and all the things you can do and say, 'Gosh, if this guy was the leader of a team, we could send him on missions too dangerous or downright impossible for an ordinary team. With him as the leader, he'd have the control and freedom to do things in the way that would make the best use of his abilities. There would be no one to hold him back on missions.' I don't know how long it will be before someone tells Hammond to offer you a team of your own, but I'd be surprised if it doesn't happen sooner or later."

"Then I guess I'd better start coming up with the best way to turn them down."

Jack searched his face for a long moment. "Are you sure, Daniel? This isn't something you should reject out of hand."

"Yes, I'm sure. You . . . don't want me to leave SG-1, do you?"

"No," Jack replied in a tone that left no doubt that he meant it. "Absolutely not. I'd be nuts not to want you to stay on SG-1. And in case you're wondering, I'd have said the same thing before you were transformed into Superman."

"Actually, I'm more like one of the X-Men," Daniel responded with a completely straight face. "They're the ones with the psychic abilities."

A grin filled Jack's face. "I stand corrected." He reached for the TV remote. "So, wanna watch a movie?"

Daniel smiled as well. "Sure, why not."

It was midnight by the time Daniel was ready to call it a night. Because of the late hour, Jack insisted that he spend the night there. Daniel didn't object since he had a change of clothes and a shaving kit there at Jack's house.

As he lay in bed, his thoughts turned to what they'd talked about. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't picture himself as the commander of an SG team, not one that went on military missions. He didn't think he'd be very good at it, and he'd probably give General Hammond and the others in charge even more headaches than Jack did.

Most of all, he wouldn't want the lives of three people in his hands every time they went on a mission, three people who would be looking to him to keep them alive and in one piece. If anything ever happened to one of the people under his command, he'd never forgive himself. That thought really made him appreciate the weighty responsibility that Jack and the other team commanders had.

A sudden realization hit Daniel with so much force that he sat straight up in bed. He peaked under the closed door and saw that there was still a light on in the other room, meaning that Jack hadn't gone to bed yet.

Throwing back the covers, Daniel got up and padded, barefoot, out into the living room.

"I thought you went to bed," Jack said from the kitchen, where he'd been munching on a midnight snack.

Daniel looked at him piercingly. "You blamed yourself, didn't you."

"What? Daniel, what are you talking about?"

"What happened to me on Kelowna. You blamed yourself. I was a member of your team, and you failed to keep me from suffering a fatal accident while on a mission you were leading."

Jack turned away, suddenly showing great interest in the kitchen curtains.

Daniel came forward a couple of steps. "It wasn't your fault, Jack."

"Yes. Yes, it was," Jack responded in a low voice. "I should have been there, Daniel. I let the team split up. I was with Teal'c checking out the city while you and Carter each went off without backup to do your own thing. I assumed it was safe. I thought there wasn't any danger. And I was wrong. God, I was so wrong."

Daniel came all the way up to his friend. "Jack, you had every reason to believe that there was no danger. We didn't know that they were running such dangerous tests on that device."

Jack spun around, eyes boring into Daniel's. "But I shouldn't have left you alone! I shouldn't have left _Carter_ alone. We should have split into teams of two, like we usually do."

"Jack, that wasn't the first time that I went off on my own on a mission. And what if someone _had_ been with me? The accident with that device would still have happened. If Sam had been there, she couldn't have stopped it, and she wouldn't have had a scientific way to fix it after it did happen. Teal'c couldn't have done anything to stop it. And you. . . ." Daniel stared at Jack even harder. "That's it, isn't it. You think that you should have been with me so that you'd have been the one to pull the core out."

"It _should_ have been me."

"Why? Because you're the team leader?"

"Yes, dammit!" Jack yelled angrily. "Because it's my job to keep the people under my command alive!"

"Even if it means sacrificing your own life in place of theirs," Daniel said softly.

"Yes. Any commander worth a damn feels the same way."

"And how do you think that _I_ feel, Jack? Do you think that I'd have let you take my place if I could have prevented it? Do you think that I'd have wanted to see you die like that? Believe me, Jack. Of all the ways that a person can die, that has to be one of the most horrible. I wouldn't have wanted to watch you go through that."

"No, instead, I had to watch _you_ go through it," Jack snapped. "And the whole time, every damn second that I sat there at your side or was off trying to clear your name, I kept thinking that it should have been me lying there, even though I didn't even know what had happened until Jonas told us. I was so angry, Daniel. You have no idea."

Daniel met Jack's eyes with a look of understanding. "I think I do, Jack. But I'm glad it wasn't you. If it had been, you and I wouldn't be here now."

"You're right about that, because Oma sure wouldn't have offered _me_ ascension. She'd have known I was a lost cause. You're the only person idealistic enough not to see that. Or maybe I should say _delusional_ enough not to see it."

"I offered you ascension because I saw something in you that I believed would allow you to achieve it."

Daniel's gentle response made Jack think about what the archeologist told him in that cell in Baal's fortress. "I thought you didn't remember what happened."

"I don't. I only know what you told me. But I know _me_, Jack, and, though I have, at times, been a champion of lost causes, I never thought of you as one."

The two men looked at each other for a long, silent moment.

"It's late," Jack said, breaking the silence. "And, unlike me, who could take the day off without anyone noticing, you've probably got a lot of work to do."

"Okay. G'night, Jack." Daniel turned away.

"Oh, and, Daniel? Thank you for seeing that kind of goodness in me. I still think you're delusional, but thank you."

Daniel smiled faintly, gave him a nod, and headed back off to bed.

--------------------------------------------------

Sam walked down the hallway, heading toward Daniel's office. What with everything that had been going on, she had never gotten together with Daniel and Teal'c to discuss what they were going to do about the colonel's birthday, which was in only three days. It wasn't safe to have that kind of discussion there at the SGC since they never knew when Jack would come walking in, so Sam wanted to see about getting together with Daniel and Teal'c outside the base.

As she arrived at Daniel's office, she stopped, puzzled. The archeologist wasn't there, and the room was dark, which meant that he hadn't just stepped out for a few minutes. Sam glanced at her watch. Five o'clock. Daniel _never_ left this early, not unless he had personal business that he needed to take care of before the evening.

Sam went to the phone and called one of the security checkpoints. Sure enough, the man she talked to confirmed that Daniel had, indeed, left the base about an hour ago.

Sam signed, wondering what she should do. If they were going to make any big plans, there wasn't much time to do it in, so the sooner they talked the sooner they could get started.

Deciding that there really wasn't anything more that she had to get done at work today, Sam went to the locker room and changed into her civvies. A few minutes later, she was in her car, heading to Daniel's.

--------------------------------------------------

Daniel got out of his car, purchases in hand. He'd been right in the middle of a translation when he suddenly realized that he'd forgotten something. Jack's birthday was fast approaching, and Daniel had noticed in the paper that a sports memorabilia store was having a big sale on all of their stock this week. The sale ended today, and the store closed at five o'clock, so he had rushed off to do some birthday gift shopping. It's not that he wouldn't have gotten Jack something there if it wasn't on sale, but he might as well save himself a little money, especially since he knew that whatever he got might not be cheap even when on sale.

Daniel smiled faintly at the thought of what he'd gotten for his friend. Being the huge hockey fan that he was, Jack would surely appreciate the DVD "Hockey: The History Behind the Game". Of course, Daniel knew that the colonel would make some kind of smart ass remark about the archeologist buying him a history program, but he'd shut up when he saw his other gift, a personally autographed card of his favorite player. That purchase had set Daniel back a few bucks, but it would be worth it just to see the look on his friend's face.

As Daniel approached his door, the feeling that had been plaguing him for days returned full force. He slowed and looked around, the hairs on the back of his neck virtually standing up. Keeping alert, he very cautiously continued to the door, wondering if some danger lay beyond it. Bracing himself and preparing to act in an instant, he unlocked it. He was just starting to open it when he heard a car pull up. Turning, he saw that it was Sam.

"Sam? What are you doing here?" he asked when she got out of the car.

"I wanted to talk to you about the colonel's birthday. I went to your office to ask about us getting together to do some planning, but you'd already left."

Daniel started walking toward her. "You didn't have to come here, Sam. We could have talked over the phone."

Before either of them could say another word, they were hit by the concussion from a tremendous explosion that blew Daniel's house apart. Being much closer to the blast, Daniel was tossed several yards through the air and landed hard on the ground. Sam was thrown back against her car. Stunned, she stared at the blazing inferno that had been her friend's house. Then she saw that Daniel was still lying on the ground.

"Daniel!" she cried.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Sam scrambled to her feet and rushed to Daniel's side. Just as she reached him, he slowly rolled over and sat up.

"Are you hurt?" she asked anxiously.

"No, I'm okay."

Their gaze when to the archeologist's house.

"My God, Daniel. If you had been in there. . . ."

"Yeah, I know."

As he got to his feet, Daniel stared at the fire that was consuming his house. The thought of all the things that it was destroying kindled a flame of anger within him. Not stopping to consider the lack of wisdom in the act, he turned his abilities upon the blaze, willing it to go out. A few moments later, the fire was gone. It wasn't until then that he realized there was an audience. Quite a few of his neighbors had come running at the sound of the explosion. One of them came up to him and Sam.

"I've, uh . . . called 911." The man looked back at the house. "What made the fire go out?"

"Good question," Daniel replied.

"I need to call the colonel," Sam said. For the sake of privacy, she placed the call inside her car, dialing the SGC since she figured that Jack might still be there. Sure enough, he was.

"Sir, there's been an explosion at Daniel's house," she told him.

"What?! Is Daniel all right? Was he hurt?" The rapid questions were full of deep concern.

"He's okay, sir, though Janet might want to take a look at him since he was thrown several feet by the blast."

"What the hell happened?"

"I don't know, but. . . . Colonel, Daniel's house is gone, destroyed."

There was silence for several seconds on the other end, then, "I'm on my way."

Sam hung up and got out of her car. She looked over at Daniel, who was still staring at the wreckage of his home. All of his neighbors had moved away several yards, and, at that moment, Sam thought that her friend looked so lost and alone. She came up to him and laid her hand on his arm.

"Daniel, I'm so sorry. All your things. God, your journals."

"The journals are safe, Sam. When Jack told me about how he was worried that some nosy cop would start looking through them when I was on my little unscheduled trip with Osiris, I realized that it wasn't safe to have them here. I took them to my office a few weeks ago."

"Thank God for that. But all your other stuff."

Daniel sighed. "Most of it can be replaced. None of the furniture meant anything to me. It was all bought after I descended since you guys sold or gave away all of my old furniture. It's the photos, and the artifacts, and some of the other personal things. A lot of the artifacts were just reproductions, but some were real." He suddenly remembered something. "Oh, God. The cup."

"Cup? What cup?"

"Mine and Sha're's wedding cup. After Sha're died, I brought it home. It was one of the things that Jack kept at his house after I ascended. He knew how important it was to me."

Sam moved closer to him and took hold of his hand. She felt him grab on tightly. "I'm so sorry, Daniel."

The fire department arrived a short while later. One of the firemen came up to them. "Are you the owners?"

"I am," Daniel replied.

"Can you tell me what happened and what put the fire out?"

"No, I can't. I have no idea what caused the explosion. I just got home. I haven't been here since yesterday morning."

"Do you have natural gas heating or appliances?"

"Yes, both. You think that it was a gas leak?"

"It's possible. It happens." He looked Daniel over. "You might want to have one of the EMT's check you out, sir."

"I'm all right," Daniel insisted.

"Then why are you bleeding?"

Daniel looked down at where the fireman was pointing and saw that there was blood on his pants. "Oh. I didn't even feel it."

The man smiled very slightly. "That happens, too."

One of the EMT's had just finished treating the scrape on Daniel's knee when Jack and Teal'c arrived. The colonel and the Jaffa hurried over to the ambulance. The fact that they were still in their fatigues was an indication of how quickly they'd rushed over.

"Daniel, are you all right?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, just a little bruised and scraped up."

Jack turned to Sam. "Carter?"

"I'm okay, sir."

The colonel looked at the wreckage of Daniel's home. "Damn," he muttered. "Do you know what caused this?"

"The firemen think it might have been a gas leak," Daniel replied. "I guess that's the most logical answer. It's just that. . . ."

Jack looked at him closely. "It's just that what?"

Daniel thanked the EMT's and walked away from the ambulance with his teammates. "Something happened yesterday morning."

"And what, pray tell, might that be?" Jack asked, just _knowing_ that he wasn't going to like this.

"I was almost hit by a car right here in front of my house."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam immediately demanded to know.

"Because I thought it was just a drunk driver. He was driving like one. There was some glass from broken beer bottles in the street, and I was picking it up, when, suddenly, there was this car heading straight toward me. I didn't hear it because of the lawnmower and weed wacker being used down the street. If it hadn't been for my sixth sense warning me just in the nick of time, it would have run me over."

"Dammit, Daniel. You should have told us," Jack said, not at all happy. "This really stinks to high heaven."

"Sir, you think that someone's trying to kill him?" Sam asked, stunned at the thought.

"Two near misses in the space of two days? Daniel may attract trouble like a picnic attracts ants, but that's way too much of a coincidence even for him."

"But who would want to kill me?" Daniel asked. "Who on Earth, that is? All of the enemies who want me dead are a bit too far away to arrange this."

"Well, you must have ticked someone off right here on Earth, Daniel."

Sam had a thought. "Sir, do you think it might be this rogue NID group? Chances are that they know about Daniel's abilities, and they must know that we're aware of their existence now. They might consider Daniel a threat to their plans."

"Good thought, Carter. That's definitely a possibility."

The same fireman who talked to Daniel before came up to him. "It seems that there is nothing for us to do here. We checked the house, and the fire's completely out, though how that's possible is a mystery to us. Once the place cools down enough, there will be an investigator here to check things out. It's standard procedure. In the meantime, the house will be taped off. No one is allowed inside."

Daniel nodded. "Okay."

"Is there a phone number where you can be reached?"

"You can get me on my cell phone or, when I'm at work, you can call there." Daniel gave the man the numbers.

"What did he mean by it being a mystery that the fire was out?" Jack asked after the fireman had left. Then the answer came to him. "Oh, don't tell me. You didn't."

"I wasn't thinking, Jack," Daniel said apologetically. "I just reacted. I was watching it burn and thinking about all the stuff inside that was being destroyed, stuff I could never replace, and. . . ." He shrugged helplessly.

Jack laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Daniel. I can understand why you did it."

A short while later, the fire truck and ambulance were gone. Gradually, all of Daniel's neighbors returned to their homes, some of them giving their condolences to the archeologist.

Daniel looked at the burned remains of his house. "I . . . don't know what to do now," he confessed.

"You're coming home with me," Jack told him without hesitation.

Daniel looked at him. "I have no clothes, Jack, nothing except the ones I'm wearing and the dirty stuff at your house."

"Then we'll go shopping. Carter and Teal'c will help." Jack looked at the other two. "Right?"

"Of course, sir," Sam immediately answered.

"Indeed," said Teal'c.

"Come on, then. Let's go find Daniel some clothes and other things he'll need."

They were all turning away when Daniel suddenly remembered something. He spun back around and started searching the yard.

"Daniel, what are you looking for?" Sam asked.

"Something I'd just gotten. I had it in my hand when the house blew up."

"Well, it can't be all that important," Jack said, wanting to leave that place as soon as possible.

"It's _very_ important, Jack." Just then, Daniel spotted the bag. He hurried over and grabbed it up, thankful to see that it hadn't gotten burned or trampled. He took a peek inside and saw that both the DVD and the card were fine, the card's protective laminate probably having kept it from getting damaged.

"So, what was so important?" Jack inquired, coming up to him.

Daniel quickly stuffed the bag in his jacket so that his friend wouldn't see the logo on it. "Your birthday present."

Jack expression brightened. "My birthday present?"

"Yeah."

"You really didn't have to get me something, you know."

Daniel shrugged. "I missed your last birthday."

That instantly sobered Jack. His last birthday had been a very sad day for him.

"Come on. Let's get out of here," he said.

SG-1 headed straight over to the mall. While Jack and Teal'c went to get some personal items for Daniel, like underwear, T-shirts and socks, Sam went with the archeologist to where the men's clothing was.

After returning to human form, Daniel had done all of his clothes shopping with Jack or by himself, so this was his first experience shopping for clothes with Sam. He had to admit that it wasn't at all unpleasant having her there helping him. If it hadn't been for the circumstances behind it, he'd have quite enjoyed it. There was no doubt that Sam was enjoying it. She was having lots of fun picking things out that she thought would look good on him, wrinkling her nose at the things she didn't like.

In the end, Daniel came away with two pullover sweaters, half a dozen shirts, three pairs of trousers, a pair of jeans . . . and the knowledge that Sam liked him in blue. He knew that he'd have to go shopping again for more things, but that would be enough to tide him over for now.

The realization of what happened had fully set in, and Daniel had gone from the shocked stage to the numb stage. He knew it was only a matter of time before he got to the angry stage, especially if it turned out that someone _was_ trying to kill him. If that turned out to be true, whoever it was would find out how pissed off a pyrokinetic archeologist could get.

Once Daniel had changed out of his slightly worse for wear clothing, Jack insisted that they all go get something to eat, though the archeologist wasn't at all hungry. Over dinner, his teammates tried to be cheerful and keep the conversation away from what had happened. He really appreciated what they were doing for him, glad that he had friends like them.

After dinner, they all went over to Jack's house. It was there that they finally turned their attention to what happened.

"I called Hammond while we were on our way to the mall," Jack said. "He's concerned that we might be right about the murder attempts. He's going to make a few phone calls and see what he can dig up."

"If it's the people who were behind that whole thing in L.A., chances are that he won't be able to find out anything," Sam stated.

"It's worth a try."

"So, what now?" Daniel asked.

"You stay here or at the base until we catch whoever is behind this," Jack answered. "Once we catch them, I won't say no to turning my back while you demonstrate what you can do to a person with those abilities of yours."

"And what if we never find out who did this? I can't live with you or stay on the base forever. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to get back to my life. These people have already taken away my house and virtually all of my possessions, I won't let them take away my freedom, too."

"They almost took away your _life_, Daniel, or don't you get that?"

"Yes, Jack, I get that. If Sam hadn't come over, I'd have been in the house when it blew. I am very aware of how lucky I was today." He shook his head. "I should have listened to my instincts."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"They were warning me like crazy that something was wrong. They've been warning me for a week that something was up."

Jack frowned at him severely. "A week? And you chose not to tell anyone?"

Daniel rubbed his forehead and temples, trying to ease the ache there. "Don't start with me, Jack. I'm really not in the mood."

Sam's eyes softened. "Do you have a headache?"

"A bit."

"Is it because you put out the fire?"

"That did cause a little bit of a headache, but it went away. This one is probably just stress and, well . . ." he gave her a weak smile, "it really hasn't been a very good day."

Jack instantly felt contrite for getting on the archeologist's case. "I'm sorry for coming down on you like that, Daniel."

Daniel sighed. "It's okay, Jack. I understand. But, if you guys don't mind, I'm going to go on to bed. It's going to be a very, very long day tomorrow."

"Okay," Sam said. "Sleep well." She got to her feet along with the others. Just before Daniel was going to turn away, she suddenly threw her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. "I'm so glad you're all right, Daniel," she whispered, keeping her voice steady with an effort.

Daniel hugged her back, not saying anything. When she finally released him, he wished them all good night, then went off to bed.

As Jack watched Daniel leave, he vowed that, if they ever found out who had tried to kill his best friend, he was going to make sure that every one of them regretted the day they were born.

--------------------------------------------------

Daniel and his teammates were a little surprised when the inspector found no evidence of arson. He had determined that it was, indeed, a gas leak explosion, the source of the leak being a faulty gas valve. The stove was the point of ignition.

Now that the house was no longer off limits, SG-1 decided to do some investigating of their own. It wasn't easy for Daniel to walk through the remains of his house and look upon what was left of all his things. He managed to find a few items that survived the blast, though not many--not until he reached the bedroom, that is. Getting down on his knees before the half-burnt bed, Daniel reached underneath and pulled out a large plastic storage container. He was amazed to see that it was only slightly warped from the heat. Almost afraid to look inside, he opened the lid. A smile came to his face upon seeing that the contents were whole and undamaged.

"What did you find?" Jack asked, coming into the room. He looked down at what Daniel was looking at and smiled. "Hey. That's great, Daniel."

The archeologist picked up the wedding cup and stroked it with loving fingers, blinking back sudden tears. He set it aside and pulled out one of the other items, the photo album that he had filled with cherished photos only a couple of months ago.

Daniel laid down the album and looked through the rest of the stuff in the box, precious items collected over a lifetime, things that had been Sha're's, a few items that had belonged to his parents, all of them spared from destruction.

"I didn't dare hope that these had survived," Daniel murmured, once again holding the cup. "I put them in the plastic container because I figured they'd be more protected than in a cardboard box. The plastic was heat-resistant."

Sam knelt beside him and gave him a one-armed hug. "I'm so glad that they're okay, Daniel."

"Yeah. I'm sorry about those artifacts of yours, though," Jack said, surprised he'd ever be sad that an artifact had been destroyed.

"These things are more important to me," Daniel told him.

That statement surprised Jack. He had to wonder if Daniel would have said the same thing five or six years ago.

"Besides, the most valuable artifacts are in my office," the archeologist explained, "the ones I found off-world and the ones that were way too rare to take the chance of them being stolen. I did have some really nice pieces here, but nothing that I couldn't find something similar to if I went looking. At least the swords managed to survive."

"Yes, I was glad to see that. Those are cool."

"And Teal'c has the Hounds and Jackals game, so it's safe."

The Jaffa's head nodded. "And it shall remain safe in my keeping."

"There are the few pieces that Sam kept from before."

"You can have them back, if you want them, Daniel," Sam told him.

"No, I said you could keep them. That hasn't changed." He looked back down at the box. "So, what's most important is right here."

Sam took his hand, giving it a squeeze. "_This_ is what's most important, Daniel, that you're all right."

"Damn straight," Jack agreed.

Daniel put everything back in the box and set it out on the porch along with the other things they had salvaged.

"Sir, do you really think this was just an accident?" Sam asked her C.O.

"I find that hard to believe considering the incident with the car," he replied. "Daniel, why don't you go over with us everything that happened Thursday morning and yesterday when you got home."

"I was leaving for work when I suddenly got the feeling that something was wrong. I looked around as I was walking to my car but didn't see anything. When I got to the street, I saw that there was a bunch of broken beer bottle glass all over the street, and some of it was in front of my car. I got an empty cup from the car and started picking the glass up. All of a sudden, my 'spidey sense', as you like to call it, started going off like an alarm bell. I looked up, and there's the car coming straight at me."

"It didn't swerve or slow down?" Jack asked.

"No, I don't think so, but, at that point, I was a little too busy getting out of the way to really pay attention to what the car was doing. It went past me _way_ too close for comfort, then continued down the block, weaving slightly, and screeched around the corner, almost jumping the curb and hitting the fire hydrant."

"You know, I find it awfully coincidental that somebody just happens to break a beer bottle on the street right in front of Daniel's house on the same morning that someone decides to use the street as a drag strip."

"You think it was planted so that I'd be out in the street and not paying attention to cars coming," Daniel said, not phrasing it as a question.

"The thought crossed my mind."

"But if it hadn't been for the lawnmower and that weed wacker, I'd have heard it coming. It's a quiet area, not a lot of traffic."

"Who was doing their yard?"

"The guy two houses down. It was a lawn service doing it. Actually, now that I think about it, that's kind of strange."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Because the man who owns that house is very tight with his money and is a do-it-yourself kind of guy. It's strange that he'd hire a lawn service."

Jack frowned deeply. "I think that we should go have a chat with your neighbor."

"Let me do it, Jack," Daniel said. "If we all go traipsing over there, he's going to get suspicious and know that something's going on." Jack started to open his mouth, but Daniel, anticipating his response, halted the colonel's words before they were uttered. "And don't say that it's too dangerous for me to go there alone, Jack. It's just two houses down, and you'll have me in sight the entire time. I'll stay well off the street."

"You know, sometimes, you really make me wonder, Daniel," Jack stated. "Are you sure that you can't read minds?"

"Jack, I don't have to be a mind reader when it comes to you." With a little smirk on his face, Daniel headed down the street.

"What did he mean by that?" Jack asked, addressing the other two. "Was he saying that I'm predictable?" He looked back at Daniel's retreating form. "Hey! I'm not predictable!" Again he looked at Sam and Teal'c. "Am I?"

"Well, sir, you have to admit that your reactions to things do fall into a certain pattern," Sam replied carefully.

"Which is just a wordy way of saying that I'm predictable," Jack grumbled.

"Um . . . sometimes you surprise us, sir."

Daniel returned a short while later, a deep frown on his face. "The whole thing was a setup," he told them. "Mister Dorchester said that those two guys approached him the previous day, saying that they were a new lawn service in town, trying to drum up business. They said that they were selecting people at random in town and giving them a free lawn mowing and hedge trimming to show how good they are."

"And the guy would be nuts to turn down free lawn service," Jack said.

Daniel nodded. "The thing is that the two men 'forgot' to give him a business card, and there was only a generic logo on the truck saying 'Lawn Service'."

"So it would be impossible for anyone to call this lawn service and, much to their surprise, discover that it didn't exist."

"Yeah. It's obvious that those men were there to cover the sound of the car. They were counting on me being too distracted with picking up the glass to see the car." Daniel remembered something and shook his head, a humorless smile on his face. "One of them talked to me."

That surprised Sam. "He did? That doesn't seem like a smart thing to do, drawing your attention to them like that."

"Oh, it was _very_ smart, Sam. It was after the car failed to hit me. The guy asked if I was okay, then cursed out the driver of the car as a drunk, saying that the car was weaving all over the place."

"Thus allaying any suspicions you might have that it was not an accident," Teal'c surmised.

"Yes, and it worked. If he hadn't said that, it is possible that I wouldn't have been quite as sure that it was a drunk driver."

Jack's bad feeling was getting a whole lot worse. "This was a professional hit. They had it all planned out ahead of time. They probably watched you for a few days to see what your schedule was."

Daniel let out a little groan. "Just great." As if the Goa'uld weren't enough, he now had professional hit men after him.

"It's obvious that they want to make it look like an accident, probably to avoid a big investigation." Jack looked at Daniel's house. "Come on. Let's go back inside."

SG-1 went into the house.

"Okay, Daniel, tell me about what happened yesterday when you got home," Jack requested.

"I got the feeling again as I was walking up to the house. I looked around again and still didn't see anything. The feeling got very intense when I reached the door and went to unlock it. I'd just unlocked it and was pushing it open when Sam pulled up. I headed back down the walkway toward her, and, all of a sudden, the house just blew up."

"So, what triggered it?" Sam wondered.

"Couldn't have been by remote," Jack concluded. "They'd have waited for Daniel to go inside."

The archeologist looked at the open doorway. "The door was slightly ajar when I went back down to greet Sam, and there was a breeze yesterday."

Jack realized where Daniel was going with this. "Which could have pushed the door open further. So, it was triggered by the door opening."

The colonel began scanning the blackened ceiling very carefully. After a few moments, he spotted something. Reaching up, he pulled it down.

"What is it, sir?" Sam asked.

"It's an eye, the kind you use with a gate hook, except that this one is made out of clear plastic." Jack's gaze returned to the ceiling. "Okay, here's a thought. What if they had a string running along the ceiling and attached to the door in such a way that, when the door opened, it would pull the string? The other end of the string was attached to something that would create a spark, something that would burn up in the fire, like the string would." He held up the eye. "If the fire had burned longer instead of being put out by Daniel right away, this would have been destroyed. No trace would have been left of anything that showed that this was arson."

Sam nodded. "They rigged the gas valve so that it would start to leak, doing it in such a way that it would appear to be a faulty valve."

"Daniel comes home, opens the door, and, boom!"

"Oh my God," Daniel whispered.

"What is it, Daniel?" Sam asked.

The archeologist met her eyes. "If you had come up to me instead of me going down to meet you or if you had arrived just a few seconds earlier and we both went to the house, you'd have been caught in the blast along with me. It's bad enough that they almost killed me, but they almost killed you, too."

Daniel's teammates all watched as something cold, hard and dangerous came into his eyes. It made a chill skitter up Sam's spine. She really didn't think she'd want to be the people who did this if Daniel ever got his hands on them.

"Okay, let's go on back to my place," Jack said, not at all liking the look on the archeologist's face.

"No, we can't go back there," Daniel said. "I can't take the chance that these people will try again, and one of you will get caught in the crossfire. They've failed twice already. They might not bother trying to make the next attempt look like an accident, which means that they could take a crack at me at any time. The only place that I'll be safe is at the SGC."

Jack nodded sharply, knowing that Daniel was right. "Okay, let's go."

Loading up Jack's jeep with Daniel's salvaged possessions, SG-1 headed to the safety of Cheyenne Mountain.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

By the time SG-1 got to the SGC, word of the murder attempts had spread throughout the base. The mood there was very somber, and more than one person looked angry. It was one thing for the _Goa'uld_ to attempt to kill "one of their own", but for a human right there on Earth to do so made everyone mad, especially because the target was Daniel, whom virtually everyone at the SGC had come to greatly admire and respect.

Word had been left at the final checkpoint that Doctor Fraiser wanted to see both Daniel and Sam the moment they arrived, which didn't surprise SG-1. As the two scientists went off to the infirmary, Jack and Teal'c went to fill the general in on what they knew. Hammond's manner became even more serious when he learned of all the evidence indicating that it was a professional hit man after Daniel. Someone was trying to kill one of his people, and he didn't like it one little bit.

"Do any of you have some idea on who might be behind this?" the general asked.

"Carter suggested that it might be the ones who were responsible for that stuff in L.A.," Jack replied. "She figures that they might see Daniel as a threat to their plans. It makes sense, sir. If there is anyone on Earth who could find and stop them, it's Daniel."

Hammond nodded. "I intend to call the president as soon as you leave this office. He'll want to know about this. I wouldn't be surprised of he gets the NID in on the investigation."

"The NID, sir?" Jack questioned, not really all that thrilled about those people getting involved in this. "Wouldn't the FBI make more sense?"

"Normally, yes, but the FBI doesn't know about the Stargate Program, which means that they couldn't be given all the facts."

"But, sir, the NID. . . ."

Hammond held up his hand. "I know what you're thinking, Colonel, and I have to admit that I agree with you. The NID's track record, especially in regards to Doctor Jackson, isn't all that stellar, which is why I'm going to request that Agent Barrett be put in charge. We know that he can be trusted."

"I still don't like the idea of them being involved, sir."

"Perhaps it would be best if we were to handle this matter ourselves, General Hammond," Teal'c stated, agreeing with Jack's views on the NID. "Though Agent Barrett appears to be an honorable man, he would still be using the resources of the NID for his investigation."

Jack nodded. "Right. And if this group still has some ties to the NID, there could be a leak of information."

"Point taken, Colonel," Hammond said. "I will recommend to the president that we keep this in-house."

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"Well, you have some spectacular bruises, and you've lost a bit of skin here and there, but, other than that, you appear to be fine," Janet told Daniel. "You were very lucky. If you had been any closer to that explosion, you might have sustained some serious injuries."

"How's Sam?" Daniel asked.

"Oh, she's fine. She has some bruising on her back from the impact with her car, but nothing extensive." The doctor's expression changed to one of sympathy. "I'm so sorry about your house, Daniel."

"Do you realize that this is the second time in the span of a few months that I'm having to start all over? At least when I came back from ascension, Jack, Sam and Teal'c had saved a lot of my things. I'm just about starting from scratch this time. I've got a few items still in storage, but not much, and there wasn't much in my house that was salvageable."

Janet laid her hand on his arm. "I can imagine how rough this must be for you."

Daniel gave her a shrug and a small smile. "I'll survive, Janet. Compared to what I've lost in the past, this is nothing. They were just things, most of which can be replaced." His gaze went to the closed curtains that hid Sam from view. His expression darkened. "But something could have happened to Sam, and I can never forgive them for that."

Concerned by the look on Daniel's face, Janet said, "Daniel, I know that you want to get the people responsible for this, but please don't go out looking for revenge. Sam wouldn't want that."

Daniel turned back to her, his blue eyes meeting hers, hiding nothing. "I don't want revenge, Janet. You should know me better than that. I want justice, and I want to make sure that they'll never be able to hurt me or someone I care about."

Janet berated herself for thinking that Daniel could ever turn into some kind of vigilante. Despite the ways that he had changed since gaining his psychic abilities, he was still the same fine, compassionate, honorable man he had always been.

"I'm sorry, Daniel," she apologized. "Yes, I do know you better than that, and I'm sorry that I doubted your intentions. So, do you have any idea at all who's behind this?"

"The only theory we have right now is that it's the same people responsible for that stuff in L.A. Long before the first murder attempt, I was experiencing a premonition that something was going to happen, but when I tried to find out what it was about, my abilities drew a complete blank, and I mean that literally. I couldn't see anything at all."

"And has that ever happened before?"

"No. I've always gotten at least some kind of image, though, quite often, it's not clear enough to make out."

Janet gave a small nod. "You are aware that the subconscious is capable of blocking things from the conscious mind if it thinks those things are too traumatic for the conscious mind to handle, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, what if the reason why you were unable to see anything is that your subconscious mind wouldn't let you witness your own impending death?"

"I didn't think about that," Daniel admitted. "So, you're saying that my subconscious blocked out the vision because I'd have seen myself die in it?"

"Well, it's just a theory, but it makes sense."

"Yes, it does, which would mean that I would never be able to predict my own death."

"Which, as far as I'm concerned, might be a good thing. It's traumatic enough to witness the upcoming death of a loved one, but to see yourself die would be quite a shock to the mind. That's why many people never have dreams in which they die. The dream will get right up to just before the moment of death, but the person wakes up before their dream self actually dies."

"The problem is that, because I was unaware that someone was out to kill me, it almost happened, twice," Daniel pointed out. "I think I'd rather witness my own death in a vision and be forewarned."

"Unfortunately, we can't really tell our subconscious minds what to do."

"Yeah." Daniel got to his feet. "So, are you done with me?"

"Yes, I am." She gave him a tube of antibacterial cream. "Use this on those scrapes until they completely scab over."

He took the tube. "Thanks. I'll add it to my growing collection."

After leaving the infirmary, Daniel got some help bringing his salvaged possessions to the quarters that would be his home for the foreseeable future.

"Thanks for the help, Marcus," Daniel said to the airman who'd helped him as they brought the last of the stuff in.

"Sure thing, Doctor Jackson. Those swords are pretty cool. You think that they'll clean up okay?"

Daniel looked at the three soot-covered blades. "I think so."

"That's good." The airman paused. "We're all really sorry about your house, Doctor Jackson. That was a tough break, especially considering that you, um, just came back to Earth a few months ago. I thought you'd like to know that we've started up a collection for you. We know that you make a lot more money than any of us do, but we just wanna help out. A lot of the people here owe their lives to you. Heck, we _all_ do since you've helped save the planet more than once. But, even if it wasn't for that, well, you're one of us, sir, and we stand by our own."

Daniel felt his throat tighten at the airman's words, deeply touched by them. "Thank you, Marcus, and please thank everyone else for me. You have no idea how much that means to me."

The airman nodded, smiling. "Well, I'll leave you alone, sir. If there is anything else that you need, just let someone know."

"Thanks."

As Marcus was leaving, Jack came in.

"Got all your stuff?" he asked.

"What there is of it."

Jack looked at the pathetically few items that had been spared from destruction. "I'm really sorry this happened, Daniel. If I were you, I'd be pretty pissed right about now."

"Yeah, I think 'pissed' is a good word to describe my feelings."

Jack looked at him closely. "I just don't want you to go off half-cocked and do something stupid."

"Don't worry, Jack. I have no intention of doing something stupid."

"That's good to hear."

Daniel sat on the bed. "This isn't exactly how I planned to spend my weekend," he said, a touch of weariness in his voice.

"Did you have something special planned?"

"No, but just about anything would be better than hiding out from a hit man. Well, okay, so I can think of _some_ worse things, but this is definitely not my idea of fun."

"No, fun it is not. So, have you considered using the old All-Seeing Eye to find out who's behind this?"

"All-Seeing Eye? Jack, the only All-Seeing Eye that I have is the one that's on the dollar bills in my wallet. I tried twice to find out what the reason for my premonition was with absolutely no luck. I couldn't get any kind of image at all. Janet thinks that the reason is that my subconscious mind wouldn't allow me to witness my own death. I'm not sure if it would make a difference that I now know that someone is trying to kill me. The thing is, though, that I don't want to take a peek into the future; I want to find out who's behind the murder attempts, and I wouldn't even begin to know how to go about doing that."

"Couldn't you do something like you did when the Prometheus was missing and you went looking for Carter?"

Daniel shook his head. "I knew who I was looking for that time. I could focus on Sam. And I think it helped that we have a personal connection to each other. Unfortunately, this ability of mine isn't like a TV, where I can just tune in whatever station I want."

"So, you're saying that we might have to find out the old-fashioned way who hired those men to kill you."

"Unless some sudden vision comes to me, then I'd say the answer is yes."

"Then I guess we'd better get started, huh?"

--------------------------------------------------

"You screwed up, Price," Kinsey said into the cell phone, making it clear that he was not happy.

"Jackson is proving to be a harder target than I anticipated," the man on the other end of the line said.

"I told you in the beginning that this would not be a simple job. I said that you had to do it in a way that would be quick, not giving him any time to react."

"You also said that it had to look like an accident, which limits my options considerably."

"Well, Jackson and everyone else know now that someone's trying to kill him, so it no longer matters if it looks like an accident," Kinsey told the hit man. "The problem is that he's taken refuge inside the mountain."

"He's got to come out sooner or later."

"He could stay in there for weeks, even months. This can't wait that long. He needs to be taken care of before the elections."

"So, how do we flush him out?"

"Short of threatening someone he cares about, which would just complicate things even more, there really isn't any way. Therefore, I'm going to have to get you in there."

"The Cheyenne Mountain Complex is about as high security as you can get," Price said.

"I am well aware of that. I have connections that can do the job. Is bringing a weapon in secretly going to be a problem? Unless you can sneak up on him and kill him instantly with it, a knife will do you no good."

"I have a weapon that I can use," Price assured him. "Will I be going in as a civilian or someone in the military?"

"Military, most likely, probably an officer. It'll be much easier to arrange. Not as a new member of the personnel, though. That would have to go through the base commander. You'll have to pass through a hand scanner to get in, so I am going to need your hand print."

"I get very nervous about people having my fingerprints, Senator."

"It's the only way you can get in. The FBI already has your fingerprints on file. They just don't have a face to go along with them, and, if you do your job right, they still won't. However, if you don't want the job, I'll find someone else better suited to the task."

Price thought about it for a moment. "Very well. Where do you want me to send the hand print?"

The two men made the necessary arrangements.

"I'll contact you when everything is set up," Kinsey said afterwards. "Oh, and, Price? If you miss again, I just might have to rethink our arrangement--that is if you're not caught and are still alive. Do _not_ underestimate Jackson. He is very dangerous."

"The man's an archeologist. How can he be that dangerous? What is he, Indiana Jones?"

"Indiana Jones wouldn't stand a chance against him. Take my word for it, Price. If you give him an opening, he _will_ take you down."

After Price hung up, he retrieved a briefcase from a hidden compartment in his closet. Opening the case revealed several handguns of various types. He selected one of the weapons, a small, .32 caliber automatic. Like the popular Glock, the frame and grip of the gun were made of a high-strength plastic polymer, the barrel constructed of metal. Unlike the Glock, however, as many of the internal components as possible were also made of plastic.

The true uniqueness of the weapon soon became apparent as Price began to disassemble it. Most of the frame and the grip had been ingeniously designed to break down into smaller pieces, small enough to hide inside boots and other articles of clothing. Next came the barrel, which unscrewed into three pieces, the silencer making a fourth.

Price picked up the tiny, four round magazine. It was gold-plated with intricate engraving on one side. The assassin retrieved another item, a large, gold, ornamental belt buckle. There was a rectangular hole in the center of the buckle, which the magazine snapped into. Looking at the buckle now, the magazine appeared to simply be a part of the buckle's design. But this was not the most ingenious part of the design, for, mounted right in plain sight all the way around the buckle, were the bullets that the gun used. They were painted gold and appeared to be permanently mounted on the buckle but could be easily removed by pressing the hidden catch.

Flipping the buckle over, Price opened the back and placed inside all of the metal pieces of the weapon. He then attached the buckle to the belt that was designed for it. Even if he was to remove the belt and give it to someone to examine, they would be unable to tell what the buckle's true function was. This was not the first time that Price had used it, and he figured that it wouldn't be the last. Though he would take heed of Senator Kinsey's warning, he had full confidence that he'd succeed in his job. This Daniel Jackson might be good, but he couldn't outrun a bullet.

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It had been three days since the second attempt on Daniel's life, and, so far, nobody had had any luck finding out who was behind it. They'd been unable to learn anything about the rogue NID group that everyone thought might be responsible. Sam had even contacted Agent Barrett, who told her that his investigation into the incident in L.A. was at a standstill, and nothing more had been uncovered about the people behind it.

Even though the NID was not directly involved in the investigation, they were aware of the murder attempts on Daniel, and Barrett had offered his help, officially or unofficially, if it was needed. Sam had thanked him and let him know that, if they needed anything from him, she'd give him a call.

SG-1 quietly celebrated Jack's birthday in Daniel's office that afternoon. As the archeologist had hoped, his friend loved the autographed card. Much to his surprise, however, the colonel did not make the expected wisecrack about the hockey history DVD. Instead, he'd thanked Daniel and said that this was one history program he'd enjoy watching.

Once the gift-giving was done, the conversation inevitably turned to the attempts on Daniel's life and their inability to find out anything about the rogue NID group.

"You know, this is the first time that I actually wish that Maybourne was still here on Earth," Jack muttered. "The guy's an S.O.B., but he had connections, and he knew what he was doing when it came to this sort of stuff. He'd probably have been able to find out something on these people. But then again, he might have decided to be one of them."

"Is there any chance that we're going about this the wrong way?" Sam asked. "What if that rogue NID group _isn't_ responsible for this?"

"Who else could it be?" Daniel questioned. "Not counting the Goa'uld, I usually don't go around making enemies of people. I'm not saying that I haven't ticked off some people and that I don't have any enemies on this planet, but someone who's a big enough enemy that they'd hire somebody to kill me? I honestly can't think of anyone."

"Perhaps the motive for these attempts on your life is something that we are completely unaware of or have not yet considered," Teal'c suggested. "While watching your television, I have seen that premeditated murders on Earth are usually committed for one or more of four reasons: hatred, greed, jealousy, or because the victim posed a threat to the murderer or something the murderer valued. You have said that no one on Earth would feel enough hatred for you to do this, so we must look at the other possibilities."

"Okay, it can't possibly be greed," Daniel responded. "Nobody who would do something like this would benefit financially from my death. Most of the people who are in my will are right here in this room, all except for Janet and Cassie. And there is nobody I can think of who would be so jealous of me that they'd want me dead."

"Which leads us right back to this being because you're a threat to someone," Jack said.

"So, who besides these rogue NID people would consider me that much of a threat?"

"Well, that's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, now isn't it. My money's still on them, though. Considering what they did in L.A., they clearly have no conscience or at least not much of one."

"So, we just have to keep trying to dig up something on them," Sam stated.

Jack stood. "Well, I think that we should all take a break from this. It's a lovely day outside, even if it is a bit nippy, and Daniel has been stuck inside this mountain for two and a half days. What say I go get us something good to eat and we all go up top?"

Sam blinked in surprise. "Sir, are you suggesting that we have a picnic?" She couldn't quite keep the amusement out of her voice.

"No, Carter, I did not say anything about a picnic," Jack answered testily.

"I don't know, Jack," Daniel said, the smallest of smiles on his face. "It sounds an awful lot like a picnic to me."

"It is not a picnic!" Jack insisted. "Just because we'd be eating outside--"

Daniel's smile got bigger. "With the trees, and the birds, and the insects, not on a mission or camping out--"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud! All right, it's a picnic!" Jack shouted.

"I would be most interested in experiencing a picnic," Teal'c intoned.

Daniel and Sam burst into laughter.

"A picnic sounds wonderful, sir," the astrophysicist said. "Great idea."

That caused Jack to smile proudly. "Yes, I thought so myself. And we can consider it a part of my birthday party."

And so it was that SG-1 had their first real picnic together, and they all thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Jack and Sam talked about picnics they had shared with family in years past, and Daniel mentioned a few that he'd had with foster families. This, of course, was Teal'c's first picnic.

The four friends were sorry when the descent of the sun behind the mountains brought an end to their picnic, and they decided that they'd have to do this again someday.

Daniel went to bed that night with a feeling of happiness, his thoughts far away from the deadly threat hanging over him.

--------------------------------------------------

Price came up to the final checkpoint that would allow him entry into the lower levels of a facility that, up until yesterday, he had known nothing about. He had gone through the previous checkpoints with no great difficulty, though his written orders were thoroughly examined, and he'd had to submit to some pretty strict security measures. The hand scanner had given him a moment of unease, but, apparently, Senator Kinsey had taken care of that, just as he had said he would.

The one problem Price would have to deal with was his escort, who had been tagging right alongside him since Level 1.

"Good morning, Major," one of the men at the final checkpoint said.

"Good morning, Airman. Here are my orders." Price handed the papers to the man. Because of the metal detectors, it had been necessary for him to remove his belt so that he could pass through the scanners, which he had anticipated. Seeing that this checkpoint had no detectors or scanners of any kind, he started putting the belt back on.

"That's quite an unusual belt buckle, sir," the man sitting at the desk said. "Definitely not military issue."

"Yes, it's a good luck piece. I don't go anywhere without it. I had it custom-made a few years ago."

"The bullets look real."

Price immediately replied with the rest of his cover story. "They are. They belonged to an old pistol that my father owned. I had them gold-plated and mounted on the buckle. He was an avid member of the NRA, and that gun was his pride and joy. I've got it mounted in a glass case at home."

The airman looked over the papers, then handed them back to him. "Well, it's quite the buckle, sir."

A couple of minutes later, Price stepped beyond the checkpoint, certain that, very soon, Doctor Daniel Jackson would be dead and he'd be on his way back home, yet another contract successfully completed.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Though Daniel had gone to bed with a feeling of contentment, he had not awakened that way. He had roused quite suddenly with a strong premonition of impending danger. It was not a feeling of an immediate threat, like what had warned him in time to get out of the path of the car, but rather the sensation that danger was yet again growing very near. Daniel didn't know how that could be possible when he was here at the SGC, unless this new feeling had nothing to do with the murder attempts.

The archeologist looked at the clock and saw that he'd slept in much later than he should have. He'd gotten very little sleep the previous few nights, and he guessed that it had finally caught up to him.

Climbing out of bed, Daniel went off to the bathroom for his shower, wondering what upcoming threat his sixth sense was warning him about this time.

--------------------------------------------------

Price exited the mens room, the reassembled and loaded gun tucked out of sight in his waistband. He had left the unconscious body of his escort in one of the bathroom stalls, figuring it would be quite a while before someone found him. It would have been easier to kill the man rather than render him unconscious, but the assassin had figured that, if the sergeant was found before Price was off the base, it would take a while for people to realize that his condition was not due to some kind of medical ailment.

The assassin went to where Kinsey had told him Doctor Jackson's office was located. Upon finding it dark and empty, he decided to try Jackson's quarters. Kinsey had been unable to tell him exactly which room it was, so he started asking some of the personnel. It took him a few minutes to find someone who knew.

Price took the elevator down to Level 25. It would make his job a lot easier if Jackson was in his room since it would not be under surveillance, meaning that he would not have to worry about the body being discovered right away

Price stopped before the door of Jackson's quarters and quickly glanced about, seeing that there was no one around. He gave a short, hard knock.

"Come in."

Entering the room, Price saw that the archeologist was only half-dressed, naked from the waist up, his glasses on the night stand. He was turned partly away, bent over to retrieve his T-shirt from where it was lying on the bed--an easy target for the assassin. Price quietly closed the door behind him.

"If you're here because I'm running late," Daniel said, "I'm on my. . . ."

Suddenly, the archeologist stiffened, standing up straight. He spun around, eyes boring into Price's with almost frightening intensity. In that instant, the killer realized that, somehow, the man knew who he was. He quickly snatched the gun out of his waistband and pointed it at his target. But before he could pull the trigger, an invisible force slammed into him like a gigantic fist and hurled him back against the wall. He slid to the floor, stunned both physically and mentally. What the hell was going on here?

Price looked up to see Daniel striding toward him, the look on the man's face telling him that he'd better do something fast or suffer the consequences. He made a grab for the gun, which was only a couple of feet away. An instant later, he cried out in pain and dropped the weapon, watching, shocked, as the plastic frame and grip melted into a useless blob.

Looking up into the eyes of Daniel Jackson, Winston Price, for the first time in his twenty years as an assassin, knew what it felt like to be truly afraid. Too late he understood all the warnings that Kinsey had given him. Jackson was no ordinary human being. He was like something out of a science fiction movie, only this was very, very real.

"Who hired you?" Daniel asked, his voice as sharp and cold as a piece of jagged ice. "You'd better tell me now, because, believe me, one way or another I _am_ going to find out."

Price slowly got to his feet, edging to the left a little. "If I tell you, what will it get me?"

"Well, for one thing, it'll be a lot less painful for you. For another, you might possibly avoid getting the death sentence, that is if Jack or Teal'c doesn't get hold of you."

"And what would you do if I _didn't_ tell?"

"Oh, I wouldn't kill you, if that's what you're thinking. There are _lots_ of worse things you can do to someone than kill them."

Price had no doubt that Jackson was right. Deciding that he'd rather take his chances being shot than face what this man could do to him, he grabbed his belt buckle, which had a second and never before used purpose, and threw it to the ground. Thick smoke began pouring out of it. Using the smoke as a cover, Price wrenched the door open and rushed out.

Coughing, Daniel found his way out of the room and out into the corridor. The killer was gone, having disappeared around one of the corners.

Using his telekinesis to push aside the majority of the smoke, Daniel ran to the phone in his room.

"This is Daniel Jackson. There's an intruder on Level 25," he announced. "He's dressed as an Air Force major, with dark hair, a mustache and a scar on his right cheek. He just tried to kill me."

Mere moments later, the alert was blaring through the loudspeakers, and SF's began searching for the intruder. Upon hearing the alert--which had included the news that the intruder had just attempted to kill Daniel--Jack, Sam and Teal'c all rushed off to join the search, picking up weapons from one of the arms lockers.

It didn't take long before over half the military personnel were armed, all of them focused on a single goal: to find the man who had tried to kill one of their own.

Price knew that his chances of getting out of there were not in his favor, but he wasn't the kind of man to give up easily. The moment he was out of view of any security cameras and personnel, he had removed his disguise and switched the insignias on his uniform for those of a captain. The blond, clean-shaven man, whose face was unmarred by any scars, had already passed by several armed personnel with only a brief glance.

Kinsey had told Price that, in case of an emergency, there was another way out, through a door at the top of the mountain, which was not nearly as heavily guarded as the main entrance. The assassin figured that it was his only chance since the main entrance was probably locked down now. As long as no one stopped him because they didn't recognize him, he just might make it.

Little did Price know that, at that very moment, he was being hunted by someone who didn't have to rely on eyesight to find him.

As he had done once before with Emmett Bregman, Daniel slowly tracked the man who had just tried to kill him, the man who could very easily have killed Sam if things had happened differently at Daniel's house. The archeologist had tuned out his anger and was completely focused on the feeling of the killer's presence. He didn't stop to think about how he could sense the man even though he wasn't anywhere nearby. It's just the way that it was.

Daniel knew that the hit man would try to get off the base somehow, and there were only three ways to do it: through the main entrance, which would now be locked down and heavily guarded, through the door at the top of the mountain--which would also be guarded, but probably not quite as heavily--and through the Stargate. Daniel's money was on the door on the mountaintop, which was why he was very surprised when his senses told him that his quarry was going down, not up. Could the man be planning an escape through the gate? How could he hope to get past everyone in the control room and all the guards in the gate room?

Not questioning what his senses were telling him, Daniel got on an elevator and headed down.

--------------------------------------------------

Price was cursing himself for all sorts of an idiot. What had he been thinking when he pushed the button for Level 28? Actually, he knew why he'd made the mistake. He was not used to an underground complex, where the higher the number the further down you were. His mind had been focused on going up, and he'd lost concentration for a moment.

Price had no idea what was on these lower floors. Kinsey had made it clear that he was to stay off the 27th and 28th levels, saying that it was way too dangerous for him to be there. Well, dangerous or not, that's where Price was going for now. He'd have to head back up as soon as he could.

As the elevator doors opened, Price saw that several people were waiting on the other side. Knowing that it would look suspicious for him to turn right around and go back up, he exited the elevator. The military presence was much heavier here, and the assassin had to wonder what they were protecting. With extreme caution, he proceeded forward.

A large opening in the wall had just come into view when a shout had Price spinning around to see Daniel Jackson standing a few yards away.

"You can't get out that way," the archeologist said calmly. "No one is going to let you go through the gate."

_'Gate? What gate?'_ Price wondered. Was there another way off the base?

At that moment, a woman, clearly unaware of the danger, walked past Price. Knowing that he needed leverage, he grabbed hold of her. Wrapping his arm about her throat in a hold that would snap her neck in an instant, he called, "Stay back!"

Attracted by the raised voices, several people came running, a few of them SF's. As they pointed their weapons at him, Price tightened his grip on the woman's throat, who began to choke and gasp for air, her panicked movements and wide eyes evidence of her fear and distress.

"Stop!" Daniel yelled, waving at the SF's. "Back off!"

Seeing what was happening, the men pulled back a little, though they kept their guns trained on the assassin.

Not knowing where he was going, but guessing by what Jackson had said that there was a way out of the mountain through that big doorway, Price began to back up, moving sideways with his back partially to the wall and using the woman as a shield. Reaching the doorway, he glanced inside. Beyond was a very large room with a ceiling so far up that it couldn't be seen. Several armed guards in full military gear were in the room, which held a huge ring carved from some kind of stone-like material with strange symbols on it. There was a metal ramp leading up to the ring.

Price entered the room and immediately had every weapon there pointed at him. Not knowing where else to go, he moved toward the ring, warning everyone to stay back or he'd kill the woman. Over the loudspeaker, he heard the call for security forces to come to the gate room.

"This is General George Hammond," another voice then said. "I don't know who you are, but I am ordering you to release that woman and surrender yourself."

Price looked up and saw that there was a room on the other side of a large window. The man who had just addressed him, as well as several other people, were staring down at him.

Price looked around at all of the armed men who faced him, but none of them worried him nearly as much as the single unarmed man who was also there. Daniel Jackson was staying far enough away not to seem like a threat, but Price knew that the distance between them wouldn't stop the man's paranormal abilities. He had encountered many dangers and challenges in his years as a killer for hire, but he had no real defense against the power of a mind that could do the things he'd witnessed. The woman whose life he held in his hands was the only thing protecting him at that moment.

Price cautiously stepped up onto the ramp and backed up several feet.

"There's no escape," the archeologist told him. "You can't get out of here. They won't open the gate for you."

At that moment, two things happened: there was a loud, mechanical sound from somewhere above and behind him, and, a moment later, a klaxon blared a warning.

"Unscheduled off-world activation," someone announced.

Startled, Price looked over his shoulder at the ring to see that a part of it had lit up.

Up in the control room, Hammond ordered the iris to be closed. The protective barrier began to shut, then abruptly stopped and retracted. It tried to close again, only to halt and open back up after contracting just a few inches.

"Sir, the iris won't close," Sergeant Harriman announced.

Sam, who had just entered the control room, along with Jack and Teal'c, quickly went to a console to find out what was wrong.

"Damn!" she cursed. "I thought we fixed that." She looked at Hammond. "There's a power fluctuation, sir, and it's affecting iris control." Realizing what this meant, she leaned over and spoke into the microphone. "Daniel, we can't get the iris closed."

Sam's announcement filled Daniel with dread. He looked at the assassin, who was showing no sign of moving off the ramp, and realized that the man did not know what the Stargate was--and, therefore, had no idea that, in a matter of seconds, he and his prisoner would be disintegrated if they didn't move back down the ramp.

"Listen to me," Daniel said urgently. "You have to move now! You've got to get off that ramp or you're going to be killed."

"I don't know what kind of trick this is, but I'm not falling for it," Price said.

"It's not a trick!" Daniel told him, his voice rising in urgency. "Please, just step back down the ramp a few feet. That's all I'm asking."

"Not a chance."

Beginning to panic, Daniel tried to figure out what to do. He could try to close the iris himself, but since he had never done it before, he wasn't sure how quickly he could do it. He feared that it would take too much time. His second option was to psychically lift both the assassin and Sheila Waters off the ramp, but he was afraid that the man would react by killing the woman. What he had to do was get her free from the killer's grasp.

Deciding what he had to do, Daniel focused his power on the arm around the woman's throat. Price screamed as a spot on his arm began to burn. His hold on his hostage broken, he staggered backwards as Sheila stumbled away and ran down the ramp.

A second later, the all too familiar sound of the Stargate engaging had everyone's eyes turning to it, including Price's. He spun around just in time to see a roiling fountain of what looked like water rush straight at him. He threw up his arms over his face . . . and then he was gone.

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, not wanting to see the gruesome remains of the man who had been hired to kill him. If he'd only been a little faster, he might have prevented the assassin's death.

"Crap," he whispered and turned away. He walked over to Sheila, whose pale face made it clear that she knew how close she'd come to dying.

"Are you all right?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, I-I-I'm okay. God, I was almost. . . ." She looked at the Stargate, and her eyes fell upon the horrible sight of a pair of feet ending in blackened stumps. Her face went even whiter, and she looked like she was about to pass out. "Oh, God," she choked out. "That could have been me."

Daniel grabbed hold of her shoulders. "Yes, but it wasn't. You're okay, Sheila."

The woman took a few deep breaths, getting control of herself. "Yes, yes, I am, thanks to you. Thank you, Daniel."

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Sheila threw her arms around the archeologist's neck. Stunned by the action, he just stood there for a moment, then lightly returned the hug.

The woman drew back after a moment and kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much, Daniel," she said with a smile, then left.

It turned out that the incoming wormhole was from one of the SG teams, who were reporting an hour ahead of schedule because of an interesting find. As soon as the general finished talking to them, the gate disengaged.

"Doctor Jackson, please come to the briefing room," Hammond said. He looked at Sam. "Major, I want that problem with the iris fixed pronto. Make it your top priority."

"Yes, sir."

Daniel, Jack, Teal'c and the general all went to the briefing room.

"Okay, first of all, please tell us what happened, Doctor Jackson," Hammond requested.

Daniel recounted the events that took place in his room.

"So, you never found out who hired this man?"

"No, sir. I'm afraid not."

Hammond turned to the others. "All right, people. I want to know how that man got on this base. This was a serious breach of security."

"Without the proper authorization, I don't know how he could have managed it, sir," Jack said. "Ever since that Ashrak breached security, we tightened things up a lot, as you are well aware. This could only mean that someone with connections to the military made arrangements to get him in here."

The general nodded. "Which does not make me feel any better, Colonel. There is something rotten in Denmark, and I want to get to the bottom of it. I will not allow my people to be threatened like this."

SG-1 had rarely seen General Hammond this angry before and knew that the man meant business.

After the meeting was over, Jack went with Daniel to the archeologist's office while Teal'c went to speak with the personnel at the checkpoints to learn if they remembered anything significant about the assassin.

The first thing that Jack saw when he entered the room was the blob of melted plastic on the floor. He knelt beside it. Within the remains of the plastic, he could make out the shape of the gun's barrel and a few other pieces of metal.

"You do realize, Daniel, that you're lucky those rounds didn't go off," he said.

"At the time, I was a little too angry to think about the gunpowder in the shells, Jack. But the next time someone tries to shoot me with a gun, I promise I won't melt it."

The colonel rose to his feet and walked over to where the belt buckle was. He picked it up. "You said that this thing was some kind of smoke bomb?"

"Yes."

"That is just _so_ cliché, and you know how I hate those."

"Cliché or not, Jack, it worked."

Jack continued to examine the buckle. "Did you see these bullets? I'd bet my paycheck that they're not just decorative." He looked at the buckle even more closely. "Hmm. I wonder. . . ." The colonel began pushing here and there. After a moment, he discovered something. "Well, will you look at that."

"What?" Daniel came up to him to look.

"This thing's got a hidden compartment." Jack fiddled with it some more and found the way to remove the bullets. He hefted one of them. "And these are live rounds. I think we just figured out how he got that firearm in here. A lot of it was probably plastic, and he stashed the pieces in his clothes. All of the metal parts went in here." He fingered the rectangular hole. "It's kind of small, but the magazine could have fit there, though it couldn't have held more than three or four rounds."

"It was a small gun, maybe a .32," Daniel told him.

Jack nodded. "It would work."

"Let me see it."

Jack handed the buckle to Daniel. The moment the archeologist touched it, a rapid series of images flashed through his mind, then settled on a single scene. Stunned, Daniel stood stock still as the truth behind the murder attempts hit him.

"Daniel? Daniel, what is it?" Jack asked, seeing how his friend had spaced off. The archeologist blinked a few times and looked at him. Something in his eyes told the colonel what had happened. "You saw something, didn't you."

Daniel turned away. "Yes."

"What?"

Daniel paused. "I can't tell you."

"You what?"

"I can't tell you what I saw."

"Why the hell not?" Jack's eyes narrowed. "You know who's behind this, don't you."

Daniel sighed softly. "Yeah, I do."

Jack's voice hardened. "Then tell me who it is."

The archeologist turned around and looked at him. "I can't, Jack. If I do, you'll kill him."

"You're damn right I will! He hired someone to kill a member of my team! More than that, he hired someone to kill a friend!"

Daniel stared into Jack's eyes. "And, as your friend, I'm going to protect you from doing something that would likely put you in prison."

"Dammit, Daniel. I don't need your protection!" Jack yelled angrily.

"Jack, listen to me. You once kept a secret from me to protect me. Now, I'm doing the same."

Jack knew that Daniel was talking about the time that the colonel went undercover to flush out the men who were stealing Tollan and Asgard technology. But that was a totally different situation.

"And don't say that was different," the archeologist said, echoing Jack's thoughts. Crap. He _hated_ it when Daniel did that.

"Just because you're the team leader doesn't mean that you're the only one with the responsibility to protect the rest of us," Daniel continued. "It's my responsibility to protect my teammates, too, if it's within my power. And it's my responsibility to protect my _friends_."

"Daniel, this person has to be dealt with, otherwise, he'll just keep trying to have you killed."

"I know. I'll handle it."

Jack gave Daniel a hard stare. "Handle it how?" He knew that the linguist wasn't capable of murder. It just wasn't in him. Heck, the guy had felt guilty after blasting a tank full of infant Goa'uld, despite the fact that every one of those Goa'uld would have eventually enslaved a human being like Sha're or Skaara.

"Don't worry about it. I've got a few ideas."

"Daniel, I don't like the idea of you confronting this person alone."

Daniel shook his head. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it has to be."

Jack realized that nothing he said was going to budge the man, and that brought his anger back. "Fine," he snapped.

"Jack, please," Daniel said, pleading for understanding. "Just let me handle this on my own. I promise you that, by the time I'm finished, I won't ever have to worry about a threat from this person again."

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With a little investigating, SG-1 found out that the man who had tried to kill Daniel was a well-known assassin responsible for at least six other murders and assassinations, and those were just the ones that the feds knew about. Though the FBI had his fingerprints on file, they'd had no name or physical description to go along with the prints.

It had been confirmed that someone had gotten into the military's database of hand prints and added the assassin's to it, giving him a completely false identity. Someone had also created the fake orders that authorized the hit man to be on the base.

It was very possible that the rogue NID group, with their former connections to the military, could still have ways of doing things like this, but when Daniel's teammates asked him if that group had something to do with the murder attempts, he said he didn't know, that he only knew who had ordered the hit--and the faces of the other two men who were partners with the hit man.

With the help of a young captain who had taken art classes in college, Daniel created a sketch of the two cohorts of the assassin. The pictures were sent to the FBI, who were able to identify the men and provide addresses.

A short while later, a military strike force was sent to apprehend the men. Jack, Sam and Teal'c were among them. Daniel had wanted to go as well, but General Hammond insisted that he remain on base since the threat to his life had not fully passed.

The two men were together when the strike force moved in and apparently decided that they weren't going to give up without a fight. The firefight that followed left one of the men dead and the other in critical condition. The injured man died a few hours later, never having regained consciousness, which angered Jack. He'd been hoping to find out from the guy who had hired them since Daniel was still refusing to reveal that information.

The archeologist was now on his way to General Hammond's office, and he had a good idea why he had been summoned.

"Please take a seat, Doctor Jackson," Hammond instructed when he arrived. Daniel did as he was asked. "I've learned that you know who hired those men to kill you."

"Yes, sir."

"And that you refused to tell Colonel O'Neill who it is."

"That's right."

"Would you care to tell me why?"

"Because I knew how he'd react. I don't want him going to jail because of an act of revenge for my sake or out of some belief that he's protecting me."

"And you're sure that's how he'd react?"

"Considering who it is that ordered the hit, I'm pretty sure."

The general studied him for a moment. "You know, I could order you to tell me who it is."

"Yes, you could, sir, and I'd have to respectfully refuse."

"I could also order you to be confined to the base until this person is brought to justice."

"I really hope you won't do that, General." One way or another, Daniel _was_ getting off this base, even if he had to break his way out.

"But I'm not going to do either of those things."

The last sentence caught Daniel by surprise. "You're not?"

"No. I have trust and faith in you, Doctor Jackson, and if you feel that you need to handle this on your own, I'm not going to stand in your way. I know that you won't do anything that would violate your principles or compromise the Stargate Program in any way."

"Thank you, sir."

"There is just one thing that I want to say. Be careful, Son. We've already lost you once. We don't want it to happen again."

Daniel left the office a short while later and headed back to his office to make his plans for putting an end to the threat to his life.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A few hours later, Daniel stood before the door to Teal'c's quarters, still uncertain if he should be doing this. But wisdom told him that it needed to be done. Making up his mind, he knocked.

"Enter," said the Jaffa's voice.

Daniel opened the door and saw that Teal'c had been performing Kel'no'reem. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It is all right, Daniel Jackson. Please come in."

Daniel entered and shut the door. As Teal'c got off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, the archeologist settled in the chair at the desk.

"You wish to speak to me about something?" the Jaffa asked.

"Um . . . yeah. It's about the man who hired those people to kill me."

"O'Neill is still angered that you will not reveal to him the identity of the man."

"Yeah, I know. Do you understand why I can't tell him?"

"You fear what he will do to the person in reprisal for their attack against you."

Daniel nodded. "It's not that I want to protect this man from Jack. . . ."

"It is that you want to protect O'Neill from his own actions."

"Yes. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Jack _wouldn't_ kill him, but I can't take that chance. I can't let Jack do something that could destroy his life."

Teal'c's head nodded once. "I understand."

"I wish Jack did."

"I believe that, in time, O'Neill will come to appreciate that you do this because you care about him."

"I hope so."

"Is this the only matter about which you wished to speak to me?"

"No. I'm going to be leaving in a little while to go . . . take care of things, and there is a chance that something could go wrong. I need someone to know where I'm going just in case that happens."

"And you have chosen to tell me?" the Jaffa asked, a little surprised that Daniel was choosing to tell him something that the archeologist refused to tell Jack.

"Only if you can promise me that you won't tell anyone unless something goes wrong and that you won't decide to take any actions against this guy yourself. I can't tell Sam since, if Jack finds out that she knows, he'll order her to tell him. He can't make _you_ tell him who it is. And I trust you to keep your promise if you say that you won't tell anyone and won't do something to the man yourself."

"I am honored by your trust, Daniel Jackson. I swear that I will not tell anyone what you reveal to me unless there is need and that I will not take actions against this person unless it is to save your life or to avenge you if are injured or killed by him."

Daniel gave a nod. "Fair enough." He met Teal'c's eyes. "It was Senator Kinsey."

The Jaffa's expression darkened. "For what reason does Senator Kinsey wish you dead?" he growled, making no secret of his emotions.

"That I don't know, at least not yet. I'm guessing it has something to do with his plans to gain control of the Stargate Program."

"Do you believe that the senator is connected to the individuals responsible for the creation of the Human/Goa'uld hybrid?"

"It's possible. After all, he was connected to the people in the NID who were behind the theft of alien technology, and he was responsible for the threats to Hammond that forced him to retire. There has to be something that Kinsey is afraid I'll find out. Unfortunately, I might have brought this on myself. I had a little confrontation with him when he was here, and I also revealed to Mister Woolsey that I had knowledge of certain facts about Kinsey. That might have made me appear to be a threat to him."

"What do you intend to do?"

"Whatever is necessary to convince Kinsey that trying again to have me killed would be a very bad move on his part. He clearly has no scruples and is not above murder. I'm going to use that to my advantage."

"How so?"

Daniel explained some of what he was intending to do. His plan received a nod and a little smile of approval from the Jaffa. Though the thought that Senator Kinsey had attempted to have Daniel killed deeply angered Teal'c and made him think about various forms of Jaffa revenge, he had promised his friend that he would leave Kinsey alone, and he intended to keep that promise--unless circumstances changed things.

Daniel got to his feet. "Well, I need to get going. I've got some things to take care of before I leave."

Teal'c had also risen. "Take great care, Daniel Jackson. I would ask that I accompany you if I did not know that you feel you must do this alone."

"Thanks, Teal'c, for understanding and for being a friend."

The Jaffa clasped his arm. "A friend I will always remain."

Daniel left Teal'c's room and went back to his office to pick up a couple of things. As he was leaving the room, he sensed Sam's presence. A moment, later, she came into view.

"You're going, aren't you," she said.

Daniel paused, not certain what she meant. "Going? You mean to my quarters?"

"No, I mean that you're going after the guy who's behind the murder attempts."

Damn. He'd been hoping this wouldn't happen. Daniel headed for the elevator, Sam keeping pace with him. "I can't talk about it, Sam."

"Why? I thought you trusted me, Daniel."

The hurt in her voice halted the archeologist in his tracks. He turned to her. "Of course I trust you. There isn't anyone in the galaxy that I trust more. But I can't tell you about this. If I do, I'll be putting you in a position where, if Jack finds out that you know, you'll have to tell him or go against the order of a superior officer. I can't do that to you."

"So, you're just going to go off and not tell anyone where you are? What if something happens to you?"

"I've made arrangements in case that happens."

Sam searched his eyes. "I'm just worried, Daniel."

Daniel gave her a gentle smile. "I know, Sam. But I'll be okay. I'm uniquely qualified to take care of myself."

Sam tried to smile, but didn't have much success. "Yes, I guess you are. A whole lot has changed since we first met, hasn't it."

"Yes, it has."

Sam pulled Daniel into a hug, which he returned without hesitation.

"I'll see you in a couple of days," he said after they drew apart. He then got on the elevator and headed down to his quarters. After packing some clothes and a few other things in a small duffle bag, he ascended to the ground level and walked to the parking lot. He was almost to his car when he felt Jack's presence. He stopped and turned, waiting. The colonel came into view a moment later.

"I found out from the general that you requested two days off," he said.

"Yes."

"So, you're going to go do it."

"Yep."

"Daniel--" Jack began but was halted by the archeologist.

"Jack, please don't ask me again to tell you where I'm going. Can't you see that I'm not telling you because I care about you?"

Jack's voice was slightly bitter. "But, apparently, you don't trust me."

Daniel took a couple of quick steps toward him. "Then swear to me, Jack, that you won't do anything to this guy if I tell you who he is. Give me your word as my friend that you won't go off and do something that could put you in jail or worse. If you can do that, then I'll tell you."

Jack was silent for a very long moment. "I can't," he finally said. "I can't make that promise."

Daniel nodded a little sadly, though he wasn't surprised. "And that's why I can't tell you."

"I'm sorry, Daniel."

"Don't apologize for being yourself, Jack. I really do understand."

"What time will you be back?"

"Hopefully, Friday evening."

"And if you're not?"

"I've made arrangements so that, if something happens to me, you'll know where I went."

Jack gave a nod, knowing that was the best he could hope for and that he needed to accept that.

"Oh, and in case you get any ideas, Jack, don't bother trying to find out where I've gone. I've learned how to cover my tracks." Daniel smiled a little. "I was taught by the best."

"Yes, you were." Jack searched his friend's eyes. "Be careful, Daniel."

"I will."

The colonel walked away a few steps, then stopped. He turned back around. "I just want you to know that, though I couldn't say the same thing about what _I'd_ do, I trust that, whatever _you're_ going to do, it would make me proud."

Daniel didn't know how to respond for a moment, surprised and deeply touched by his friend's words. "Thank you, Jack. It means a lot that you'd think that."

With a faint smile and a nod, the colonel turned and walked away.

Daniel got in his car, started it up, and left the base, preparing himself for what he would soon be facing.

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Through the binoculars, Daniel studied the layout of the estate, deciding which would be the best way to approach. He had assumed that, now that Kinsey was running for vice president, there would be a lot of security at the man's house. His assumption had proven correct. One way or another, he would have to get past those men and into the house without being seen. The fact that there were no closed circuit cameras was a big plus. At least he wouldn't have to worry about some guy sitting at a monitor spotting him.

Daniel wished that his teammates were there beside him. He knew that Jack could come up with a way to get inside. The man had successfully commanded missions to penetrate Goa'uld strongholds. This would probably be a piece of cake for him. But Jack wasn't here, and neither was Sam or Teal'c. This was something that Daniel had no choice but to do alone. He was just going to have to come up with his own plan and hope that it worked.

That thought in mind, Daniel returned to his car and left to take care of the other things he needed to do. It was 2 a.m. when he returned. Looking through the night vision goggles he'd gotten, Daniel could see that there was a lot less activity outside the house. That would soon change.

Daniel silently got as close to the house as he dared, his all-black clothing helping him blend into the darkness. He stayed well outside the pool of light coming from the outdoor lighting around the house. With the help of the blueprints he'd gotten, Daniel had learned the layout of the house and knew where he was going to go once he got in. Now came the part of his plan where he made getting in without being seen possible.

The archeologist's attention focused on the huge detached garage off to the left. Closing his eyes, he tried to see what was inside in the same way that he'd seen inside the wall of his cell on Osiris' ship. After a few moments, an image formed in his mind. He searched the building until he found something that would suit his purpose. Seconds later, the wooden workbench burst into flames. With the power of his mind, Daniel fanned the fire, driving it up the wall and the shelving above. The heat soon melted through the plastic bottles of some motor oil, causing the oil to spill out and feed the flames even more.

Just then, what Daniel had been waiting for happened. Someone shouted, "Fire!" and people came running. Within a few seconds, most of the guards who were outside had rushed to the burning garage. Several people who had been inside came out as well. People were shouting orders to call 911 and to get a hose. But no garden hose was going to put that fire out. Daniel had made sure of it.

As the archeologist crept toward the house, he saw Senator Kinsey and his wife hurry outside. Kinsey was screaming more orders at his men, clearly upset about the hundreds thousands of dollars worth of vehicles that were going up with the garage.

Instead of drawing closer to the blaze and attempting to put it out, Kinsey's men began hurrying away, despite the senator's nearly apoplectic rage and screams to put the fire out. The reason became apparent several seconds later when a tremendous explosion blasted through the garage. It was followed by another one, then a third as, one by one, the gas tanks of the cars in the garage blew up.

"Oops. Oh, too bad, Senator," Daniel murmured under his breath.

Knowing that this would be the best time to make his move, Daniel snuck around to the back of the house and slipped inside. Not a soul was in sight, everyone outside, watching the fire.

As he entered the foyer, Daniel saw that a couple of Kinsey's live-in servants were standing on the porch, the front door wide open. Hoping that neither of them would turn around, he hurried up the stairs and to the study, silently shutting the double doors behind him. He crouched behind a settee on the left wall and pulled his cell phone out, dialing Kinsey's number. It took a while for one of the servants to hear the phone over the noise of the fire and the approaching fire engines. When the call was answered, Daniel asked for Kinsey. Knowing that only one thing would get the senator to the phone right now, the archeologist told the woman that the president wished to speak with him.

As Daniel had anticipated, Kinsey chose to take the call in his study. The man walked in, shutting the doors behind him, and picked up the phone, his back to Daniel.

"Mister President, I'm sorry for the delay, but. . . . Hello? Hello, is anyone there?"

"Don't you just hate it when you answer the phone and nobody's there?" Daniel said, standing up.

Kinsey spun around, stumbling back a step in shock. The phone fell from his grasp. "Jackson! How did you get in here?"

At that moment, another explosion from the garage rocked the house.

"Hmm. I wonder if that was the limo," Daniel said. "Or maybe it was the '56 Bentley Continental. Nice car that Bentley. Such a shame."

Kinsey glared at him. "You! You're responsible for that fire! I'll have you up on charges, arson, breaking and entering, and whatever else I can think up."

"Oh, I don't think so, Senator," Daniel said in a low, dangerously quiet voice. "You see, I know that you're the one who hired those hit men to kill me. I have no physical evidence, nothing that would hold up in a court of law, but I saw all the proof I need with these abilities of mine, the same abilities that you're clearly afraid are going to find out something else as well. Why did you do it, Kinsey? What were you afraid I'd learn? It obviously has something to do with your plot to take control of the Stargate Program. I've pretty much come to the conclusion that you're in bed with that rogue group of ex-NID agents, and I'm willing to bet that it's from them that you got a big chunk of those campaign funds. But that alone wouldn't give you a motive to kill me since we already knew that you were working with the bad element within the NID before they were brought down. No, this has to be something bigger."

Daniel took a step toward the senator. "You should have left me alone, Kinsey. Those men you hired destroyed my house, virtually everything I own. Do you know how angry that made me? But far worse than that, worse than the fact that I was nearly killed, is that Sam was there, and she could have been killed, too." He took another, measured step forward. "And that makes me a whole lot more than angry."

Daniel looked around the study. "This is a nice room, Senator, a nice house." His eyes pierced into the other man's. "I wonder how it would look engulfed in flames."

"You wouldn't dare," Kinsey said.

"Wouldn't I? Think about it. I'd make the perfect arsonist. I could burn this place to the ground, and no investigator would ever be able to tell how the fire started. No incendiary device, no accelerant, just one big explosion, the whole house gone in seconds." Daniel stalked slowly toward the senator. "I'd also make the perfect assassin. Do you have any idea how many different ways I could kill you without even touching you? Tell me, Kinsey. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to burn to death from the inside out, to have your internal organs broil right inside your body, your flesh turning to ash from the intense heat?"

Kinsey had backed up into the corner, eyes wide with terror, his body shaking. Daniel came right up to him and glared into his eyes.

"Listen very carefully, Senator. If there is one more attempt on my life, if any of the people I care about are harmed through your actions, you'll be getting an up close and personal demonstration of my abilities. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes. Yes," Kinsey whispered in a frightened voice, cowering even deeper into the corner.

"Good. See that you remember." Daniel backed away. "Well, it's been nice chatting with you, but I really need to get going." He went to the door and concentrated for a moment. Sensing no one on the other side, he stepped out. "Enjoy the barbeque," he said just before closing the door.

Not wanting to take the chance of being spotted, Daniel went to the room on the other side of the hallway instead of going back downstairs. A quick scan told him that it was empty, so he opened the door and slipped inside. Keeping the light off, he headed to one the windows, which were on the back wall of the house. Opening it, he looked out and saw that the coast was clear.

Thankful that he'd gotten over his nervousness about heights years ago, Daniel climbed out onto the window sill and jumped, using his abilities to slow his descent. He landed lightly and turned back up to the window, psychically closing it so as not to leave any trace that he'd been there. He then quickly yet cautiously headed in the direction of his car, keeping his senses alert for anyone's approach. He made it off the estate and to his car without incident.

Once he was safe in his car, Daniel removed the black gloves he'd been wearing. Though the precaution probably hadn't been necessary, he had wanted to make sure that he left behind no evidence of his presence in the house. He knew, though, that the senator would never tell anyone that he'd been there.

As he drove away, Daniel began to smile, wondering if Kinsey would change his shorts before going back downstairs or after.

--------------------------------------------------

Daniel made it back to Colorado Springs as planned. He tiredly drove to the base and made his way to his quarters, deciding to go straight to bed since he hadn't gotten any sleep at all the previous night and only a brief nap on the flight over the night before.

That night was only the second good night's sleep he'd had since finding out that someone was trying to kill him. He awoke feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. Unfortunately, the positive feeling didn't last long. Daniel was barely out of the shower and dressed when he felt Jack's approach. The excessively hard rap on the door made him suspect that he wasn't going to like this. A moment later, as he opened the door, his feeling was confirmed. Jack strode in, his face like thunder.

"Glad you made it back, Daniel," he said, his voice lacking the warmth it should have had. "You know, an interesting thing happened this morning. You see, ever since you left, I've been here on base. Didn't want to leave in case you called, needing help. Once I knew that you'd made it back safely last night, I went on home. Well, I was taking a look at the papers with my breakfast this morning, and, low and behold, lookie what I see in yesterday's edition." He threw a newspaper down on the bed. Daniel's heart sank as he saw the headline.

"Fire at Senator Robert Kinsey's Estate, Damage Toll in the Millions."

_'Crap,'_ the archeologist cursed silently. This was one thing that he hadn't even thought about, though he now realized that he should have.

Jack took a step toward Daniel. "It was him, wasn't it. It was that sanctimonious, two-faced, lying little hypocrite. He's the one who tried to have you killed."

Daniel heaved a deep sigh. "Yes," he said, knowing that there was no point in lying. The fact that Senator Kinsey's garage had burnt to the ground the very same day that Daniel had gone off to deal with the person who'd hired the hit men was too much of a coincidence.

Jack's expression darkened even more. "I should have shot him when I had the chance. I won't make that mistake the second time." He headed toward the door, but Daniel stopped him, placing himself between the door and the colonel.

"Get out of my way," Jack said through gritted teeth.

"No."

"I don't want to fight you, Daniel."

"Then don't, Jack. Besides, you and I both know that you don't stand a chance against me, not anymore."

Jack stared furiously into Daniel's eyes, the blue gaze meeting his head on, not backing down an iota. The colonel knew that the younger man was right. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd have no hope of beating Daniel, not if the archeologist used his abilities.

"You can't stop me forever," he said.

Daniel took a stride toward him, his arms gesticulating. "Dammit, Jack! If you go after him, you'll make everything I did, the risks I took all for nothing!"

"You were almost killed because of him, three times!"

"Yes, I was. I'm the one whose house is a blackened ruin because of him. I'm the one who's had nightmares about Sam being in that house when it blew up. I know what he did and what he almost did. But that does not mean that I can let you go off and kill him!" Daniel looked at Jack earnestly. "If you kill Kinsey, he will have succeeded in doing something worse than killing me. He will have taken away one of my friends. Even if you weren't caught and sent to prison or executed for the crime, the fact that you killed him in spite of me begging you not to would always, _always_ be between us. Do you want that, Jack? Do you want to destroy our friendship like that?"

Jack turned away, his back stiff. No, he didn't want that. He didn't want to lose Daniel's friendship and respect. They meant far too much to him. But the thought that Kinsey had tried to have his best friend murdered made Jack so angry that he couldn't see straight, and the knowledge that that man might become the vice president of this country made him even angrier. Kinsey needed to pay for what he did.

"Jack, please," Daniel pleaded. "Just let it go."

Jack realized that it had come down to a choice between his revenge on Kinsey and his friendship with Daniel. Looked at it that way, there really could be only one decision. He turned around and met Daniel's eyes.

"All right, Daniel. I won't go after him, not unless he tries something like this again."

The archeologist visibly relaxed. "I don't think you have to worry about that, Jack, not after that little talk I had with him."

"Then you did more than just torch his garage? That was great, by the way. I bet Kinsey just about popped an artery over losing the limo and all those other cars."

"I can safely say that he was not a happy camper. And, yes, I did more than that."

"Care to share?"

"Well, let's just say that I scared the crap out of him, perhaps not literally in _that_ way, but I do believe that he would have had to change his shorts after I left."

Jack grinned nastily. "Had him peeing in his pants, did you?"

"I believe so."

"Sweet. Okay, I want the details."

"Hold on a second. Sam will probably want to hear this, too."

Not three seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Sam," Daniel called.

The major peeked her head around the door. "Oh. Hello, Colonel. I didn't know you were here. You . . . want me to come back later?"

"No, come on in," Daniel answered.

She came forward and saw the newspaper on the bed. "Oh. Uhhh . . . I take it that the cat's out of the bag, huh."

"You could say that," Jack responded. He looked at his 2IC more closely. "Did you know it was Kinsey?"

"No, sir, not until I saw the headline in yesterday's paper, which I didn't read until this morning. I came here to find out from Daniel if my guess was right that it was Kinsey who ordered the hit on him."

"Ditto."

"So, ummm. . . ." Sam looked back and forth between the two men questioningly.

"Jack and I have come to an agreement," Daniel told her, answering her unspoken question.

"Yeah. Though I'd dearly love to break that rat bastard's neck, I'll leave him alone as long as he leaves Daniel alone," Jack said. "Daniel here was just about to tell me how he had Kinsey peeing in his pants."

"Yes, I was," the archeologist responded, "but, since Teal'c's almost here, we might as well wait for him, too."

"You, know, Daniel, that really creeps me out sometimes."

Teal'c's knock on the door halted any reply Daniel might have made to Jack's statement. The archeologist called for him to enter.

"They know," Daniel told him when the Jaffa entered the room and saw both Jack and Sam.

"I see."

Jack realized what Daniel's announcement meant. "Wait a minute. Teal'c already knew?"

"Yes," Daniel replied. "I told him just before I left. I had to let someone know where I was going just in case something went wrong. I picked Teal'c because you wouldn't be able to force him to tell you if you figured out he knew."

Jack looked at the Jaffa. "And you didn't want to tear Kinsey limb from limb when you found out it was him?"

"Indeed I did, O'Neill, but I swore to Daniel Jackson that I would not do so unless Senator Kinsey harmed him further."

Jack turned to the archeologist. "Okay, Daniel, now that we're all present and accounted for, let's get on with the story."

Daniel told his teammates all that happened that night. Jack had a smugly pleased smile on his face upon hearing how his friend had Kinsey cowering like a scared rabbit in the corner.

"Not that I don't love what you did to him, Daniel," Sam said, "but how could you be sure he'd believe that you would actually do something like that to him? You were taking a big chance that he'd call your bluff."

"I was pretty sure he'd fall for it. Someone like Kinsey, a person who is that unscrupulous, often tends to see that same trait in others, regardless of whether or not it actually exists in those other people."

Jack understood what he was saying. "In other words, because Kinsey has the capacity to commit murder and destroy people's lives, he believes that you're capable of it as well."

"Exactly. He would judge me by his own standards."

"It is good that Senator Kinsey does not understand that you are a man of integrity who would not do such things," Teal'c stated.

"Yep. He believes that Daniel will turn him into a charbroiled politician, _extra_ well done, if he ever tries anything like this again," Jack said with a smile. He patted the archeologist on the back. "Good job, Daniel. You've made me proud."

"But this doesn't change the fact that Kinsey tried to have Daniel killed," Sam pointed out. "And he's getting away with it. What if he becomes vice president? What if he becomes _president_ someday? I couldn't possibly serve a president that I knew did something like that, especially to a friend."

"There is a very good chance that he will be vice president," Daniel responded, "but, one way or another, we'd have to stop him from becoming president. He is far too dangerous and immoral to be allowed that kind of power."

"I agree," Jack said. "There's no way in hell that I'm going to let that man become president. It's bad enough that he might be our next _vice_ president. If he and Hayes get elected, we'd better hope that Hayes is smart enough and strong enough to stay in control at the White House."

"I wonder why Kinsey did it," Sam said thoughtfully. "What was his reason for wanting you dead so badly that he'd take the risk of hiring a hit man?"

"That I don't know," Daniel admitted. He told them his thoughts and the things that he did know.

"Well, whatever his reasons for thinking that he had to get rid of you, I just hope it's not something that's gonna bite us all in the butt one of these days," Jack stated.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The news about Kinsey's estate, coupled with the fact that Daniel was gone at the same time it happened and was also apparently no longer in danger, had more than one person in the SGC suspecting that the senator was behind the murder attempts and that Daniel had "persuaded" the man to leave him alone. Though the news reports stated that the fire was ruled as accidental, everyone at the base knew that, with Daniel's abilities, he could set a fire and leave no trace of how it was started.

General Hammond did more than just suspect all of this, he was positive of it. He did not confront the archeologist about it, however, knowing that, if he knew for certain, he would either have to report Daniel's actions to the president or go against his sworn duty. Hammond reasoned that, as long as he didn't ask, he could truthfully say that he had no proof that Daniel was behind the incident at Kinsey's estate.

As to what he thought personally about the incident, he knew what kind of man Senator Kinsey was. He had proof of it on a computer floppy disk sitting in his desk drawer. The fact that the senator was connected to the threats on Hammond's family, the threats that had forced him to retire from the SGC over three years ago, had definitely not endeared Kinsey to the General. But knowing that the man personally hired hit men to kill Daniel Jackson made things many times worse. It had not been just threats this time. If it wasn't for Daniel's psychic abilities, he would probably be dead now. That thought enraged Hammond. As far as he was concerned, whatever Daniel did to the senator was justly deserved. The man belonged in prison, and if evidence of what Kinsey did ever came into the general's hands, he wouldn't hesitate to give it to the authorities.

So, if he had to pretend ignorance of Daniel's actions against Senator Kinsey, then that's what he was going to do. It's the least that he could do for the man to whom they all owed so much.

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Daniel was a little surprised when, that afternoon, Janet came to his office. He was used to being called to the infirmary when she wanted to see him.

"Let me guess. You saw the news about Kinsey's garage and want to know if it was my handiwork," he said.

Janet smiled slightly. "I'm guessing that more than one person has already asked you that."

"Yep, although Jack didn't really ask. He was already sure of the answer. And Sam didn't need to ask either. But I have had a few other people feel me out about it. You know, if I'd thought about the newspapers running the story, I'd have picked something less spectacular to do. I wasn't planning on half the base figuring everything out."

"I guess that answers one of my questions, then. It _was_ Senator Kinsey who hired those hit men."

"Yes."

"Do you know why?"

"No, not really." Daniel looked at the doctor more closely. "You said that answered _one_ of your questions. What other questions did you have?"

"Just one other, really. It's about what you did to the garage."

"Oh. You want to know if I burned it down in retaliation for what happened to my house."

"The thought did cross my mind," Janet admitted.

"The answer is no, Janet. I needed a diversion, something big that would draw the attention of all the guards and everyone in the house. The garage was the best thing that I could come up with." Daniel paused. "But if you're asking if it felt good to see Kinsey so upset about all his cars being destroyed, then, yes, it did. Does that make me a bad person?"

"No, it doesn't, Daniel. It just makes you human. I can't say that, if I was in that situation, I wouldn't have felt the same. Not many people could. After the things he did to you, the things he took away from you, it's only natural that you'd feel some satisfaction in seeing him suffer a similar loss. At the same time, though, I know that you could have done a lot worse. You could have taken away his home just as he did yours."

"Yes, I could have. Actually, I threatened to do that very thing--among other things--when I talked to him. But it's not something that I'd really do. Kinsey wouldn't be the only one to suffer if I did something like that. And even if that wasn't the case, I would never stoop that low. I won't lower myself to anywhere near his level."

"I really don't think you could, Daniel. It's simply not in you to become that kind of person," Janet said with conviction. "So, is it over?"

"Yes, it's over. I don't think that Kinsey would dare try having me killed again, not after the scare I put into him."

"So, what now?"

Daniel shrugged. "Now I start over . . . again. Jack recommended that I not tell the insurance company that the fire was due to arson since the investigation would tie up getting my money for months. I talked to General Hammond about it, and he told me that, because the fire was connected to the Stargate Program and my abilities, he agreed that it would be best to keep the insurance company in the dark. So, I'll probably be getting a check from them within a few weeks. I can't stay here on base that long, though, so I'm going to start looking for a new place now." He smiled. "Jack wanted me to find a house in one of those high security, gated communities. I told him no way. I already have to deal with that kind of stuff when I come to work. I don't want to go through it whenever I go home, too. We settled on me getting an alarm system."

Janet smiled again. "Well, I guess you can't blame him for wanting to make sure something like this never happens again."

"Yeah, but in all the years that I've been with the program, this is the first time I've ever had a break-in. Jack's also had people enter his house uninvited, yet that doesn't seem to worry him."

"No, but the colonel worries a great deal more about the safety of his friends and the people under his command than he does his own." Janet's gaze sharpened. "In that way, he's an awful lot like a certain archeologist I know."

"Really? What archeologist would that be?" Daniel asked with mock innocence.

"The one I see in my infirmary way more often than I should."

"Hmm. And here I thought that _I_ was your number one patient out of everyone in the Archeology Department." Daniel then smiled. "I'm hoping that, now that this situation is over with, it will be a while before you see me in the infirmary again, well, except for post-mission physicals, that is, and that won't be happening for another couple of weeks or so since the general wants to give me time to take care of all my personal stuff first."

"So, house hunting, huh?"

"Yep."

"You should take Sam along."

Daniel's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Sam?"

"Sure. Get a woman's perspective. We're way better at house hunting than men are."

The archeologist's brows went up another notch. "Oh, really. And why is that?"

"Because we know what's important in a house: lots of closet space, decent size bedrooms, nice bathrooms and, most importantly, a good kitchen."

Daniel had a big smile on his face. "I'll keep that in mind, Janet."

The next day, Daniel began his search for a new house. He looked at what was listed in the paper and checked the Web sites of the realtors in the area. Though he had been intending to do this phase of the house hunting by himself, it didn't end up working out that way. When Sam and Jack stopped by to see what he was up to, they got in on the search and began offering their personal opinions of each house that Daniel looked at in the paper and online. Then Teal'c showed up and starting giving his rather . . . unique opinions on the pros and cons of each house.

When the time came to go looking at the houses later that day, Daniel found himself hitting the road with all three of his teammates. It being a Sunday, they were doing no more than drive-bys and, in the case of vacant homes, taking a peek in backyards and inside windows, but, even so, Daniel was finding the number of "acceptable houses" dwindling rapidly. Between Jack's complaints that the backyards weren't big enough, or that there was too much fancy landscaping, or that there wasn't a decent porch or deck, Sam's comments that the houses weren't pretty enough, or had tiny kitchens, or weren't in good neighborhoods, and Teal'c's frowns of disapproval, what had been a list of fifteen houses was pared down to six by the end of the day.

Daniel could have pointed out that, since this was _his_ house that they were shopping for, it was his opinions that counted, but the feeling of being part of a family who cared enough that they wanted him to find the perfect home was too important to him. When he had gone house hunting after he descended, he'd done it alone, which was the way he had wanted it. He had wanted the feeling of being in control of his life that shopping alone for a house gave him. Things were a lot different now, and he liked having his friends play a part in finding a new place for him to live.

That evening, they all went to O'Malley's for dinner.

"So, you going to call to make arrangements to see those houses tomorrow?" Jack asked.

"That's the plan, though I doubt I'll be able to see all of them in one day."

"So, you want us to come along?"

"I don't want to intimidate the poor realtor or homeowner, Jack," Daniel replied.

The colonel looked over at Teal'c. "You have a point. Okay, how about just one of us, then? You've gotta have a second opinion, after all."

Daniel glanced at Sam. "Well . . . Janet thought I should take Sam with me."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "She did?"

"Uh huh. She said that women are better house hunters than men are."

"Well, I could argue about that," Jack stated. "When Sara and I went looking for a house, all she cared about was what the kitchen was like and how big the closets were."

Despite Jack's comment, it was decided that Sam would be the one to go with Daniel since the archeologist already knew what Jack thought was important in a house. Jack also thought that Daniel would benefit from a woman's point of view.

And so it was that, come Monday, Sam accompanied Daniel when he went to take a better look at the houses. The first house they looked at turned out not to be all that great on the inside, an opinion shared by both scientists. Daniel kind of liked the second house, but Sam pointed out that it had very little storage space, the closets being quite tiny.

"I don't really have all that much to put in the closets, Sam," Daniel said quietly, which resulted in the major giving his arm a squeeze and a gentle look of sympathy and understanding.

"I know, Daniel, but that will change in time. We'll be helping you buy all kinds of nice new stuff," her smiled turned mischievous, "and, judging by your office, I'd say that lots of storage space will eventually be a must."

"Hey, are you saying that my office is cluttered?"

Sam just smiled wider.

"Well, okay, so maybe it is a _little_ cluttered, but I know where everything is . . . most of the time."

Sam let out a little laugh.

With Sam's urging and Daniel's admittance that a larger master bedroom would be good so that he could have a bigger bed that his feet wouldn't hang over the end of, the two friends decided to go back to the beginning and look for a bit larger home. They scanned through the newspaper and found a few possibilities, deciding to go have lunch before taking a look at any of them. As they waited for their meals, Daniel called the phone numbers for the places and made arrangements to see three of them that day.

A good portion of the rest of the afternoon was spent looking at the three houses Daniel had arranged to see. One of them turned out to be pretty nice, but they both decided to continue looking. They returned to the SGC to take a look at the Internet listings and call the realtors.

"So, any luck?" Jack asked when he came to Daniel's office.

"A little, sir," Sam replied. "We altered the search parameters a bit."

"What does that mean?" Jack looked at the archeologist. "Daniel?"

"I decided that I wanted something a little bigger," Daniel told him. "I figured that more room would be good. The other house was okay, but kind of cramped. I had to keep some of my stuff in storage even though you'd gotten rid of a lot of things after I ascended. And it would be nice to have a bedroom big enough to hold a bed that I could sleep in without my feet hanging off the end."

"Yeah, well, didn't I say that you should have gotten something bigger the last time?"

"Yes, you did, and, now, I'm taking your advice."

The next day, Daniel and Sam were back out on their house hunt. The fourth house they looked at was for sale by the owner, a pretty sky blue, two-story house with dark blue trim.

"Hey, look, Daniel. It's your color," Sam said teasingly.

Daniel flashed her a smile, but didn't have the chance for a retort since the owner of the house was coming out to greet them.

"Hello," said the plump woman, who looked to be in her late fifties.

"Hi. I'm Daniel Jackson, and this is Samantha Carter," Daniel said.

"I'm Cecilia Winter. You picked a lovely day to go house hunting."

Daniel looked up at the clear blue sky. "Yes, we did."

"Well, come on in, and I'll show you around."

The three of them went inside, where the woman took them from room to room, talking about the features and interspersing it with chat about her kids and grandkids. The place, which was a beautifully remodeled and maintained old home, had been the residence of the woman and her husband for nearly forty years. Their two daughters had shared the smaller bedroom. Mrs. Winter's husband had passed away a year ago, and she had decided to move to Denver to be closer to her daughters and their families.

It hadn't taken Daniel long to decide that he liked the place. Being a house built back in the early part of the twentieth century, it possessed a charm that the newer houses lacked, yet, with all the updates and remodels that had been done, it was not lacking in modern conveniences. The electricity and plumbing had all been completely redone several years ago, bringing them up to code.

"This is beautiful," Sam said.

"Yes, it is," Daniel agreed aloud.

"I'm pleased that you like it," Cecilia said with a smile. "It is a lovely home. I hate to part with it, but I need to be near my children and grandchildren. It's not good living alone."

"Could we see the backyard?" Daniel asked.

"Of course!"

The backyard turned out to be quite spacious and possessed a large, covered deck that Daniel knew would please Jack. He said so to Sam, who smiled.

Cecilia looked at them curiously. "Who is Jack, may I ask?"

"A friend," Daniel replied. "He insisted that I get a house that had a backyard good for having barbeques."

The woman chuckled. "Sounds like your friend and my Frank would have gotten along famously. Frank couldn't have lived without his barbeque grill. See? There it is over there."

Sure enough, over in the corner of the deck was a large grill.

"I have no need for the thing, so it's staying with the house," Cecilia told them, "which should make your friend happy . . . that is, of course, if you decide to take the house."

Daniel glanced at Sam again. He could tell that she really liked the place, and he did, too.

"I do like it a lot," he told the owner.

"Do you have your financing all settled?"

"No, but that won't be a problem. Between what I have in the bank and what I'll be getting from the insurance company, I won't be financing all that much, and I have a well-paying job. I had no trouble getting the last house."

"Good. It sounds like everything would be all right, then."

Daniel looked back at the house. "I'll take it," he said, making up his mind.

"Wonderful!" Cecilia said, beaming. "I'll tell you the truth. I wasn't prepared to sell this place to just anyone. I wanted to make sure someone worthy of it lived here. But I have a good feel for people, and I know that you're the right sort."

"Thank you. I'll go to the bank first thing in the morning to work out the financing, but, if you'd like me to, I can give you some earnest money now."

"Oh, that won't be necessary. I trust you."

Daniel gave her his contact information. When she saw that he worked at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, she assumed that he was military, and Daniel explained that he was a civilian consultant there.

A few minutes later, he and Sam were on their way back to the mountain.

"That house is really nice, Daniel. I think you'll like it there."

"Yeah, me too. Of course, you know that when I tell Jack that I'm getting a hundred-year-old house, he's going to say that I picked it because it's an archeological site."

Sam laughed. "Yes, he probably will."

Daniel became serious. "Thanks, Sam. I really appreciate you helping me find a place. It was fun doing this together."

"You're welcome, and, yes, it was kind of fun." Sam smiled. "But wait till I help you pick out your furniture."

"Oh, now, wait a minute. I never said anything about you picking out my furniture, Sam."

"_Help_ pick out your furniture, Daniel," Sam responded. "And you need help. You had nice furniture in your apartments, but some of the stuff you picked for your house was just way too plain. You need to get _good_ furniture this time."

"I can see my bank account plummeting already," Daniel muttered.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm great at finding good deals on stuff. You have to be on a major's salary. You just leave it all in my capable hands, Daniel."

Daniel kept his eyes on the road, hiding the little smile that wanted to come to his lips. Maybe there would be some benefits to his house burning down after all.

--------------------------------------------------

As Daniel had thought, getting the loan was not a problem, though it had been necessary for the bank to make sure that there was not going to be any difficulty in getting the insurance company to pay the claim on the old house.

Because Cecilia already had a house in Denver picked out, she was eager to have the escrow close quickly. Because of this, Daniel found himself very busy with the bank, the insurance company and everyone else involved, trying to make things happen fast. It was then that he found out once again that it paid to have friends in high places. Apparently, someone important--he didn't know who--had contacted the insurance company and requested that they hurry along with paying the claim. Daniel got his check in the mail the following Tuesday, which was also election day.

Long before the final results were announced, Daniel knew that Hayes and Kinsey had won, even though it was a fairly close race from start to finish. Because of Daniel's warning, Jack had also known that Hayes and Kinsey were very likely going to win, but he was still cursing up a blue streak when the announcement was made.

"I swear, Daniel. Hayes had better not be some puppet on Kinsey's string, because I am _not_ taking orders that originated from that crooked S.O.B," he fairly snarled. "I don't care if he is vice president now."

"I guess we'll find out once they take office, sir," Sam said, understanding his ire. She wasn't thrilled about the election results either, and neither was anyone else on the base, from what she'd seen and heard. Too many of them suspected that Kinsey was the man who'd tried to have Daniel murdered.

Two days later, escrow closed on Daniel's house. Cecilia had already moved out most of her belongings before then, so, by the weekend, the house was empty and ready for Daniel to move in.

Daniel began his furniture shopping Saturday morning, and, as Sam had said, she was right there with him, "helping". Most of the time, Daniel agreed with her choices, but there had been a few occasions when their tastes differed entirely. It being his house, Sam didn't say anything when that happened. She admitted to herself that the archeologist's choices weren't bad, just not what she'd have picked if it was her house.

Daniel had rented a pickup for the purpose of hauling the furniture he purchased. With the help of Jack and Teal'c, they all managed to get the house at least partially furnished that weekend, enough that Daniel could move in on Monday once he'd gotten certain other necessities. At least the house had come with all of the major appliances, so he didn't have to worry about shopping for a refrigerator, stove and such.

Monday evening, SG-1 sat in the living room of Daniel's new house, eating Chinese.

"Well, I have to admit that you did good, Daniel," Jack said, looking around the place, "even if you did pick a house that would qualify as an archeological site."

Daniel looked at Sam with a "You see? What did I tell you?" expression on his face. Sam hid her smile the best that she could.

"Actually, Jack. I did a little research and found out some of the history of this house. . . ." Daniel began.

"Ah!" Jack interrupted. "Save the history lessons for later. Right now, I'd like to propose a toast." He got to his feet and looked at Daniel. "To Daniel and his new house. May they be happy together for a long, long, _long_ time to come."

Smiling, everyone took a swallow from their glasses, four friends enjoying the fact that they were all there, alive and well.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

By the end of Wednesday, Daniel pretty much had all the furniture he needed and had begun to turn his attention to decorations. The only request that Jack made when it came to the decorations was that Daniel _not_ get any tribal masks, stating that the ones the archeologist had up in his old bedroom were hideous enough to give even the ex-Black Ops officer nightmares.

Daniel's decorating plans would have to be put on hold, however, since they were scheduled for a mission on Thursday. It had been over five weeks since SG-1's last off-world mission, and everyone was eager to get back out there.

When SG-1 stepped onto M5H-798, they went from the cold of November in Colorado to the heat of summer. UAV images had shown a village about ten klicks to the southeast. To the west of the settlement were some ruins that bore a striking resemblance to the ones on Vis Uban, which meant that they could be ruins of an Ancient city. The plan was to go to the village first, then do a preliminary recon of the ruins to see if it was worth extending the mission several days and bringing in more people.

"So, how are you enjoying your new house?" Sam asked Daniel as they headed down the rough path leading to the village.

"It's great, a lot roomier than my other one. The neighborhood's also a lot . . . friendlier. I think that half my neighbors have already dropped by to introduce themselves."

"Well, that could be a good thing or a bad thing, all depending on how nosy they are."

"Yeah, I already had to use the standard cover story with several of them. At least mine is more convincing than yours. It makes sense that the military would have need for a linguist/cultural expert/diplomat and that such a job would often require trips out of the country. I can even make excuses for my occasional injuries by saying that a diplomatic mission went sour. You generally don't get gunshot wounds studying deep space radar telemetry."

"True. How they ever came up with that cover story is beyond me. It's typical of the military's lack of imagination, though."

SG-1 was a little over halfway to the settlement when Jack noticed that the sun had advanced a whole lot farther across the sky than anticipated.

"Carter, did the info from the MALP and UAV happen to mention that the days on this planet are apparently a _whole_ lot shorter than they are on Earth?" he asked, his tone telling everyone that he was not pleased.

Sam looked up at the sky, noting the position of the sun with surprise. "We were aware that the days were shorter, but not _this_ much shorter."

"Well, there's no way that we're going to have time to go to the village, and the ruins, and make it back to the gate before nightfall."

"What do you want to do then, sir?"

Jack thought about it for a moment. "You and Teal'c go on to the village, Carter. Daniel and I will cut through the woods to the ruins. We'll take a quick look around and meet you back at the gate at . . ." he looked at his watch, "1400 hours. Judging by how fast that sun is traveling, it'll probably be getting close to sunset by then."

"Yes, sir."

The team split up, Sam and Teal'c continuing to the village, while Daniel and Jack left the path and headed in the direction of the ruins. They were nearly there when Daniel suddenly came to a dead stop. Jack was going to ask what was wrong, then he saw the distant expression on the linguist's face.

That expression abruptly changed to alarm, and Daniel snapped out of his trance. "Jack, Sam and Teal'c are in trouble!"

"What?"

"The villagers are servants of Baal!"

"Well, yes, we already knew th--"

"No, you don't understand, Jack. They're _loyal_ servants!"

"Crap!" Jack grabbed his radio. "Carter, Teal'c, come in!"

"Carter here, sir," replied Sam's voice.

"Major, get out of there, now! Daniel says that those villagers are loyal to Baal. They're going to turn on you."

"What?! All right, sir. We'll--"

The way Sam's voice suddenly broke off told Jack and Daniel that the colonel's warning had come too late.

"Sir! We're under attack!" came Sam's voice a moment later. They heard the sound of Teal'c's staff weapon firing.

Daniel was off in a flash, running full-speed toward the village. Jack hurried after him. As he ran, Daniel cursed himself for not having sensed the threat sooner. His senses were now screaming at him, telling him that Sam and Teal'c were in grave danger. Jack was also cursing himself, realizing too late that he shouldn't have split up the team.

Nearly out of breath, Daniel and Jack made it to the village. The archeologist barely slowed down. He barreled into the clearing, ready to mow anyone down who showed signs of hostility. It didn't take long before several of the villagers came at him with weapons. The ground before them erupted as fire spewed from it. Screaming, the people fled. Marching forward unswervingly, Jack on his six, Daniel used his heightened senses to detect the approach of every villager, blasting each one back with fire or his telekinetic abilities. To Jack, the archeologist looked like some kind of avenging angel, and he knew that only Daniel's innate sense of morality was keeping him from doing serious harm to the people.

Daniel's senses had been questing through the village for the presence of Sam and Teal'c, and the fact that he could not feel them was terrifying him. God, please don't let them be dead.

By the time they reached the center of the settlement, several buildings were on fire, having been set alight by Daniel's attack. Some people were battling the blazes as others were running away in terror from what they perceived as a demon.

Daniel homed in on one particular man, whom he knew was the village leader. The man was standing defiantly with several others, facing him.

"Where are they?" the archeologist demanded to know, walking right up to the group.

The villager leader spat at the ground before Daniel. "You are enemies of the great and powerful god Baal!" he said.

Daniel's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You want power? I'll show you power."

An instant later, a huge nearby sculpture of Baal exploded violently. A moment after that, the village leader found himself dangling three feet off the ground, an unbreakable force holding him prisoner.

"I'm going to ask you again," Daniel growled. "Where are they?"

All of the man's defiance fled in the face of Daniel's terrifying power. "Gone! They are gone! Some of the men took them to where Baal's Jaffa would retrieve them and take them to face our god's judgment."

"Where is this place?"

The man pointed a shaking finger to the south. "There. In the temple that lies at the foot of the hills."

Daniel let the man down. He looked around, seeing the fire that was slowly consuming the village. Taking pity on the people despite their actions, Daniel snuffed out the fire. He turned back to the headman, who was gaping at the no longer burning buildings.

"Baal is not a god," Daniel told him. "He is a parasite inside a human body who uses technology to make himself look like a god. He has no power other than that, and I could kill him as quickly as I could any of you. My people and I have already killed several others of his kind. Stop worshiping a false god and stand up for yourselves as free human beings."

With that having been said, Daniel strode past him, Jack in his wake.

"Wait!" called the village leader. Daniel stopped and looked at him. "Who are you?"

The archeologist paused only a moment before replying, "I am Dan'yar." Then he resumed walking.

Once they were out of the village, the two members of SG-1 increased their pace to a fast jog. Daniel pushed his headache to the back of his awareness, turning his entire attention on making it to the temple as fast as possible. He recalled the location of the structure from the UAV footage and knew that it was a good two miles from the village.

Jack trotted beside Daniel in silence, half of his mind on his missing teammates, the other half on what had just happened. He wondered if he'd ever get used to seeing his friend wield that kind of power. Daniel in full attack mode was a terrifying sight to see. Once again, the colonel was thankful that the archeologist was a good person, for, if he wasn't, they would probably have just left behind a trail of bodies and a village burnt to the ground.

The sight of a Tel'tak coming in for a landing in the distance made Daniel and Jack leap forward into a run. They were still a good quarter of a mile from the temple, however, when the ship lifted back into the air. Daniel knew with absolute certainty that Sam and Teal'c were on it.

"No!" he cried, coming to a halt. He and Jack watched helplessly as the craft shot away. There was nothing that Daniel could do to stop it without taking the chance of killing his friends.

"Are Carter and Teal'c on it?" Jack asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes." Daniel turned to him. "They're being taken to Baal, Jack." There was anguish in the linguist's eyes. "You know what he might do to them."

"Yes. Yes, I do," Jack responded, feeling ill. The thought of Sam and Teal'c being tortured the way that he was made his stomach clench painfully. "Come on, Daniel. We've got to get back to the SGC. We need to figure out where they would have been taken so that we can mount a rescue."

The two men made their way back to the Stargate, bypassing the village by cutting straight through the woods.

General Hammond was very worried when Jack and Daniel reported what had happened. A message was immediately sent to the Tok'ra, asking for information on where Baal's location was.

"It could be days before they reply," Daniel said, "even weeks, especially now that the alliance is over. We can't wait that long."

"What would you suggest, Doctor Jackson?" Hammond inquired.

"The rebel Jaffa. They may know where Baal is. As far as I know, some Jaffa are on Albaren at all times. We can go there and ask if they know anything. If those who are there don't, they might be able to contact some of the rebels in Baal's army."

The general nodded. "Very well, Doctor Jackson. Take SG-20 with you."

Jack and Daniel didn't waste any time making preparations to return to the planet where Daniel had fought in hand-to-hand combat against Har'tec.

Jack could tell that Daniel was really worried. As they and SG-20 waited in the gate room for the wormhole to be established, Colonel Bray came up to them.

"Tough break about Carter and Teal'c," he said.

"We'll get them back," Jack declared.

Bray nodded, then looked at Daniel. "Doctor Jackson."

"Colonel Bray."

The man hesitated a moment. "Sorry about your house and everything."

Surprised, Daniel said, "Thanks."

Bray returned to his men. Jack glanced at Daniel questioningly. The archeologist could only shrug.

Exiting the wormhole onto Albaren, the men from Earth were greeted by Jaffa aiming their weapons at them. The weapons were soon lowered, however. One of the Jaffa came forward, bowing his head deeply.

"Dan'yar. We are honored by your presence," he said.

"Thank you. The honor is mutual," Daniel responded, which clearly pleased the Jaffa. "We have a problem. Two of the members of SG-1, Major Carter and Teal'c, have been captured by Baal. We were hoping that someone here might know where Baal is so that we can rescue them."

"I do not have that knowledge, nor, I believe, do any of those with me, but others here may know. Come. I will take you to the others."

The Jaffa took Daniel, Jack and SG-20 to the same ancient amphitheater where Daniel fought Har'tec. When they arrived, the archeologist immediately recognized the figure of Ka'ter among the Jaffa assembled there. The man came forward with a warm smile, clasping Daniel's arm.

"Dan'yar. It is good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too. I wish this was just a social call, but something's happened. Major Carter and Teal'c have been captured by some of Baal's Jaffa, and we can only assume that they've been taken to him."

"This is grave news. Baal will not treat them kindly, especially since they are members of SG-1."

"We know. That's why we have to rescue them as quickly as possible. Is there anyone here who might know where Baal is?"

Ka'ter thought for a moment. "There are two from Baal's army here at the moment. It is possible that they may know. We will ask."

The first Jaffa they questioned did not know Baal's present location, but the second one told them where the Goa'uld had been as of several days ago, which was within his stronghold on the planet Kreth.

"Is there a Stargate there?" Jack asked.

"Yes, but it is heavily guarded," the man replied.

"That won't be a problem," Daniel declared. "But if we go through the gate and take care of the Jaffa on the other side, will it alert Baal to our presence?"

"Not unless other Jaffa see what you have done. The Stargate is some distance from the stronghold. But to get into the structure, you would have to defeat many Jaffa, and Baal would surely know then that you are there."

"What information can you give us on this place?" Jack questioned.

The Jaffa gave them as many details as he could. Fortunately, he had been stationed there once, so was quite familiar with the layout.

After getting the gate address from him, Jack, Daniel and SG-20 stepped away a few yards. Ka'ter joined them.

"This sounds an awful lot like that stronghold that Baal had me in," the colonel said, "and it took the intervention of Yu and his fleet to make it possible for me to get out of there."

"Yes, Jack, but the difference between then and now is that my hands aren't tied by the rules of the Ascended," Daniel told him meaningfully.

Jack met Daniel's gaze. "Yeah, but, back then, if you would have been allowed to blast everything to hell, it would have been a piece of cake for you. You didn't have to worry about frying your brain by overusing your abilities."

"I'm willing to risk it, Jack. We're talking about Sam and Teal'c."

"I know, Daniel."

Ka'ter stepped forward. "If you intend to attack Baal to rescue your friends, then I pledge my service to you, as will many others among the rebel Jaffa. We will do this not only to save Teal'c and Major Carter but also to defeat the false god, Baal."

"Ka'ter, it's possible that many of your people could die," Daniel told him.

"From the day that each of us first rebelled against the Goa'uld, we knew that we might one day have to sacrifice our lives to defeat them. We do not fear this. Let us fight at your side, Daniel Jackson. Let us help you strike against Baal and destroy him."

Daniel's eyes went to Jack, who met his gaze.

"It's your call, Daniel. You decide," the colonel told him.

Hoping that he wasn't making a terrible mistake that he'd live to regret, Daniel said, "All right, Ka'ter. I would be honored to fight with you and your fellow Jaffa against Baal."

Ka'ter smiled and clapped a hand on the archeologist's shoulder. "Return here at this time tomorrow, and there will be an army awaiting your command."

On the walk back to the Stargate, Daniel was utterly silent, his mind filled with what lay ahead. Jack chose not to talk to him, figuring it would be best to wait until they had complete privacy.

When they returned to Earth and filled Hammond in on everything, the general was reluctant to give the green light for the mission.

"We've run up against this situation before when Colonel O'Neill was Baal's prisoner," he said. "At that time, it was deemed that the stronghold couldn't be penetrated, that it would take too many men."

"Yeah, but, this time, it wouldn't be just us, sir," Jack argued. "We're going to have a whole bunch of Jaffa right there fighting with us."

"How many?"

"It's hard to say," Daniel replied. "It really all depends on how fast Ka'ter can gather the rebel Jaffa. If I had to guess, I'd say maybe a couple of hundred or so."

"Which should be enough to get into that stronghold and free Carter and Teal'c, considering that we have Daniel's abilities on our side," Jack stated. "Add three SG teams to that, and I'm pretty confident that we'll succeed."

Hammond fell silent as he made his decision. Daniel hoped that the man would say yes since he really didn't want to have to go against Hammond's orders. But, one way or another, Daniel was determined that he was going to go get Sam and Teal'c, even if he had to do it alone.

"All right, you have a go for the mission," the general finally said.

"Thank you, sir," both Daniel and Jack responded.

"There is just one thing, sir," the colonel added. "I want Daniel to be in command of the mission."

Daniel's head snapped around sharply, and he stared at Jack in shock. "What?"

"Please explain, Colonel," Hammond requested.

"Sir, we all know that the Jaffa who are joining us aren't going to want to take orders from me. Remember what M'zel said at that meeting after the Alpha Site was attacked. However, they _will_ take orders from Daniel, or, rather, from Dan'yar. Ka'ter even said as much. It was pretty clear the last time we were on Albaren that the rebel Jaffa will willingly accept Daniel as their commander in battle. Because of this, it only makes sense that he be put in command of the mission. Also, since his abilities are going to be a big factor in getting us into that place, it would be better for him to be the one to decide what the best approach would be. After all, he's the one who really knows what he can and can't do."

Hammond nodded. "You have a good point, Colonel." He turned to Daniel, whose face bore a faintly panicked expression. "I can't order you to take command of this mission, Doctor Jackson, but Colonel O'Neill is right on both counts. You are the most logical choice to lead."

Daniel didn't say anything right away, and it was clear to the other men that he was in the middle of an internal struggle to decide what to do. Finally, he spoke.

"To be honest, sir, I don't know if I've got what it takes to command this mission." He drew in a deep breath. "But if it's the best way to rescue Sam and Teal'c, then I'm willing to try."

Hammond gave Daniel a gentle smile. "I have confidence that you're up to the challenge, Son."

Twenty minutes later, Daniel was sitting on the bench in the locker room, staring unseeingly at the towel in his hands.

"Hey. You okay?" Jack asked, sitting beside him.

"Oh, other than being worried sick about Sam and Teal'c and being scared half out of my mind, I'm just peachy, Jack."

"Daniel, look. What did I tell you before? You've got what it takes to command. I have zero doubt of that."

"I know, Jack, but _I_ don't have zero doubt of it."

"What are you afraid will happen?"

"That I'll screw up royalty, that I'll make a mistake that will get people killed."

"Welcome to the club."

Daniel looked at the colonel.

"Daniel, do you think I go into every mission with absolute confidence that I'll do everything right and all my team will make it back alive? Think again. Every time we go on a mission, every single time, there's the thought in the back of my head that I'll make a bad decision that will cause the mission to fail and possibly get one or more of my team killed or badly injured. There has been more than one occasion when that fear became a reality. The commander who thinks that he's perfect and never makes mistakes isn't fit to lead since that kind of attitude will get his men killed real fast. So, you're not feeling anything different from what a million other team leaders have felt, especially on the first command."

Daniel sighed softly, his gaze leaving Jack's. "I just don't think I could handle it if I did make a mistake that got people under my command killed, people who are trusting me to get them through the mission alive."

"It isn't easy when it happens, Daniel," Jack said quietly. "Trust me. I know."

Daniel turned to look at his friend, seeing a haunted shadow in Jack's eyes. "Do you ever get over it?"

"The truth? No, not if you give a damn."

Daniel nodded, his gaze remaining locked with Jack's. "I hope I don't have to find that out personally."

"So do I, Daniel."


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The following afternoon, Daniel, Jack, and SG-3, 5 and 20 were all armed for battle and waiting in the gate room as the Stargate dialed up. Daniel looked slightly out of place with the others, being clothed once again in a black muscle shirt and jeans, just like he'd worn the first time he went to Albaren. As with that trip, it had been decided that not having Daniel identifiably dressed in his military clothing would be a smart idea, both on Albaren and on the mission itself. It would not be a good thing if any of Baal's Jaffa escaped and identified Dan'yar as a member of the SGC. The archeologist was also not wearing his glasses since it would lessen the chance that someone would recognize him as Daniel Jackson. He was, however, wearing a protective vest underneath his shirt.

"Okay, listen up, everyone," Jack called out. "In case you haven't already heard this, Doctor Jackson is in command of this mission. Now, when I say in command, I _mean_ in command. You take your orders from him. If he tells you to do something, you do it, just like you would if it was me giving the order. And that means all of you." He looked pointedly at Colonel Bray. "Got it?"

"We understand, Colonel," Bray replied, nodding.

"Good." Jack turned back to the gate.

"Was that really necessary, Jack?" Daniel asked under his breath, feeling very self-conscious.

"I just wanted to make it clear who was in command of this mission, Daniel, in case some of them were having an issue with taking orders from a civilian."

The connection to Albaren was established, and everyone went through. They were greeted on the other side by a small group of Jaffa, who led them to the amphitheater.

The moment the SG teams entered the structure, they froze in their tracks.

"Holy. . . ." Jack's voice faded off, his jaw dropping a little, for there in the amphitheater was at least a thousand Jaffa, five times the number they had been anticipating.

Ka'ter came up to them. "I apologize that there are not more, Dan'yar. If there had been more time, others would have been able to come."

"Uhhhh, no, this is . . . this is plenty, Ka'ter," Daniel told the man. His fear, which he had pretty much gotten under control, had returned with a vengeance. How was he going to command an army this size?

"They are waiting for you to address them."

"Um . . . okay. I'll be there in just a minute."

Ka'ter nodded and walked away.

"Jack?" Daniel said, his rising panic in the tone of his voice. He felt the colonel's hand rest upon his shoulder.

"Breathe, Daniel. It wouldn't be good for your image to faint in front of your troops."

"Look at them all."

"Yeah. Cool, huh? We're definitely going to kick Baal's snakey ass."

"Have you ever commanded a force this big?"

"Nope, can't say that I have."

"Then I suppose that you don't have any advice for me?"

"Sure I do, Daniel. Don't let them see you sweat."

Daniel turned a glare upon the colonel. "Oh, thank you so much for that sage advice, Jack."

"My pleasure." Seeing the look of fear in the archeologist's eyes, Jack grew serious. "Just do your best, Daniel, and remember that they're all here because they want to be."

Daniel looked at the assembled Jaffa. He knew that the plan he had devised would have to be changed somewhat because of the large number he would be commanding. He was originally intending to rely heavily on his abilities, but, with an army this size, he might not need to use them as much, which would be a good thing.

Daniel called the SG teams together and discussed the changes in the plan of attack. Once everyone knew what they were going to do, the archeologist took a couple of deep breaths and walked to the center of the arena.

"Today we are going to attack the stronghold of Baal. We are going there to rescue two people who have been captured by him, but, with this mighty army I see before me, it is my hope that we will also be able to capture or kill Baal, which would be a great victory for all Jaffa wishing to be free. I know that each and every one of you would willingly give your life to defeat him, but I want you to know that all of your lives are important, not just to the Jaffa rebellion, but also to me. Fight and live, Jaffa, for your continued survival will mean that you can fight again another day."

Being used to their masters commanding them to give their lives in the service of their god, many of the Jaffa were surprised by Daniel's words, not knowing how to react to someone who actually valued their lives.

Several seconds of silence passed before a single voice arose and shouted, "Dan'yar!" Within moments, every Jaffa there had picked up the cry, which resounded throughout the amphitheater. Daniel held up his hands, and everyone grew quiet. The archeologist then filled the Jaffa in on the battle plans, answering questions here and there. Once finished, he told the Jaffa to head to the gate, which they did, filing out of the amphitheater quickly.

Jack came up to his friend. "You did good, Daniel."

"I just hope they listen to me about not rushing in and throwing their lives away. You know how the Jaffa are in battle."

"Yes, I do. I've killed enough to know that. You did what you could. Now, come on. We've got two people to rescue and a snake to catch."

The army marched to the Stargate. Once they reached it, the men from Earth gave radios to as many Jaffa as they could, quickly teaching them how to use them. Daniel had wanted to make sure that the Jaffa would have a way to keep in touch with him if one of the SG team members weren't around. Because of the unexpected numbers, only about one in thirty got a radio, but it would be better than none.

Daniel dialed the address for their destination. Once the wormhole had established, Jack activated the shock grenade that they'd brought and tossed it through. They waited a few seconds, then followed it through the wormhole. On the other side, they found twenty stunned Jaffa.

With a force that big, it took a while for everyone to make it through the Stargate. Once they were all there and the gate had shut down, Daniel began giving orders. Now that the time had finally come, his fear had been supplanted by determination. Sam and Teal'c were on this planet, and they were going to rescue them.

The first thing that was done was that the unconscious bodies of the Jaffa who had been guarding the gate were tied and gagged, then hidden out of sight. Daniel then assigned twenty of the rebel Jaffa to take their place. In that way, any approaching enemy Jaffa wouldn't realize the switch until they were pretty close, close enough that the rebel Jaffa could take them out. He also had an additional twenty Jaffa go hide in the nearby woods as backup for the ones who would be at the gate.

There was only one entrance to the stronghold, a huge, heavily guarded door on the north wall that would close the second an attack on the fortress began. Daniel ordered three hundred Jaffa to encircle the structure and distract the forces inside from the main attack on the entrance. SG-20 was assigned to oversee those Jaffa and give commands in his name. As for the main attacking force, they would be relying upon Daniel to take out the big guns protecting the entrance and get them through the door.

Daniel had made it clear to the Jaffa that a surprise attack would increase the chance of victory and decrease the death toll, which resulted in the quietest Jaffa army that the teams from Earth had ever encountered. However, though the Jaffa moved as quietly as they were able, it was impossible for an army of that size to move with complete stealth, especially when most of those within it were outfitted in heavy armor. Even so, both units managed to get pretty close to the stronghold before the alarm was raised.

From the shelter of the trees and rocks, the three hundred Jaffa who had positioned themselves at the south, east and west walls began firing upon the fortress continually, keeping the enemy Jaffa on those sides busy. While this was going on, Daniel, Jack, SG teams 3 and 5, and the rest of the Jaffa attacked the entrance.

Zeroing in on the four huge blast cannons that protected the door, Daniel knocked them out of commission with his power. Without that firepower, there were only the individual Jaffa to protect the entrance now. In a full frontal assault, Daniel and his men moved in.

Unlike the usual method of attack that Jaffa used, the rebel Jaffa, obeying Daniel's commands, used what cover they could to shelter behind as they advanced on the stronghold. Because of this and because of their superior numbers, only a few of them fell in comparison to the huge number of defenders that did.

As many of the rebel Jaffa fought, they cried the name Dan'yar. Hearing those cries, most of Baal's forces realized who was attacking them, and quite a few decided that they didn't want to go up against this enemy of the Goa'uld who had become legendary. Some fled, while others, those who had secretly longed for freedom, threw down their weapons and surrendered themselves, vowing their allegiance to Dan'yar and the rebel Jaffa.

In the midst of it all, Daniel drove forward, using both his abilities and his P-90 to clear the way. Jack stayed at his side, his own weapon firing with deadly accuracy.

In a surprisingly short time, the attackers made it to the entrance to the stronghold, overwhelming the forces protecting it by their sheer numbers and determination.

"Colonel Bray, we're at the entrance," Daniel announced over the radio.

"Copy, Doc . . . uh, Dan'yar," the colonel radioed back. Because of the radios that the rebel Jaffa had, it was necessary for no one to use Daniel's real name when talking through them since they were still trying to keep the number of Jaffa who knew Dan'yar's true identity down to a minimum.

"We're taking heavy fire here," Bray told him.

"Withdraw further back into the trees, if you have to, but keep up a steady barrage. We're at the door, and I'm about to open it. As we discussed before, some of those men shooting at you are going to come running this way shortly after we penetrate this door. You know what to do after that. Bring half the Jaffa back here to back us up, and leave the rest in position."

"Yes, sir," Bray responded crisply, not the tiniest hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Daniel turned to Jack to see an expression of approval and pride on the man's face.

"So, shall we invite ourselves in?" the linguist asked.

"You bet."

Ordering everyone else to stand clear of the door, Daniel turned to it and closed his eyes. With his mind, he sought out the controls. The instant he found them, he struck, destroying the locking mechanism. Once that was done, he moved away from the entrance and proceeded to open the door. The huge barricade slowly began to lift. The moment it had risen a couple of feet, over a dozen rebel Jaffa, who were all lined up on the ground before the door, began firing inside, hitting the enemy Jaffa that had been on the other side. The barrage of staff weapon fire was so intense that none of Baal's men could cross the opening without being hit. Added to this were the zat guns being used by SG-5 and 3 from their positions on either side of the entrance.

As the door rose still higher, more enemy Jaffa arrived to take the place of those who had fallen. And that's when Daniel stepped into action. Fire flared up and drove the Jaffa back. They were then taken out by the SG teams and rebel Jaffa.

At last, the door was all the way open and the way clear.

Daniel keyed his radio. "Colonel Bray, we're in. Everyone, you know what to do." He turned to Jack "Let's go."

"Yes, sir," Jack replied with a nod and a little smile.

Following Daniel's plan to the letter, the majority of rebel Jaffa in his unit flooded into the fortress and set about the task of sweeping it free of resistance. Several dozen remained outside to guard the entrance, while a few dozen more accompanied Daniel and Jack as they headed toward the cells. The archeologist stationed groups of those Jaffa at every intersection along the route to make sure that Baal's forces didn't close in and cut off the avenue of escape. Each of the groups had a radio, as did the Jaffa guarding the entrance.

As for SG-3 and 5, they and a large group of Jaffa had been sent on a special mission: to take out the stronghold's primary power generator, which would cripple Baal's defenses even more.

Just as Daniel had guessed, when the stronghold's defenders heard that the entrance had been breeched, most of them left their posts at the other walls and rushed to join the forces battling the attackers who were now inside. As he'd been ordered, the moment Colonel Bray noticed a reduction in the amount of fire he and his unit were under, he took half of his forces to the entrance and joined the battle inside, leaving the remaining Jaffa under the command of his 2IC and another member of his team.

Throughout the incursion, Jack had been watching Daniel, marveling at how well the archeologist was doing. Looking at him, you would never know this was his first command, and you certainly would never guess that, the previous day, he had been terrified of the thought of command. The younger man was cool and professional, his orders given firmly and decisively. And everything was working perfectly. They had overrun Baal's forces with ease and with very few casualties among the rebel Jaffa and none among the teams from Earth so far. Jack knew with certainty that he could not have done any better himself.

Of course, Daniel's paranormal abilities were another reason why things were going so well. Without them, they'd never have been able to get inside. The archeologist had been using his power sparingly, but with great effectiveness, like a skilled brain surgeon making just the right cuts to remove a tumor.

Speaking of the brain. . . . "How's the head?" Jack asked as they continued down the corridor.

"Okay," Daniel replied. "Hurts a little bit, but I'm fine. I've been taking it as easy as I can. There's no telling what we might run into when we break Sam and Teal'c out."

Jack smiled a little. "I can't wait to see the looks on their faces when they realize who all is coming to get them."

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Sam and Teal'c listened to the sounds of battle. Most of what they heard were the blasts from staff weapons, which worried both of them. Were the forces of an enemy Goa'uld attacking the stronghold? If so, their situation might be going from bad to worse, especially if that Goa'uld was Anubis.

Sam cradled her broken arm against her body, eyes fixed upon the opening above their heads, as were Teal'c's. Since being captured yesterday, they had been brought before Baal twice, the first time for him to gloat over their capture, the second time for him to demand that they give him information on Earth's defenses and how to get through its Stargate. Of course, Sam and Teal'c didn't tell him anything, which resulted in Teal'c being severely beaten by two of Baal's Jaffa. The Goa'uld had then taunted them by recounting in detail how he had tortured Jack, saying that would be their fate if they did not cooperate with him.

So far, Sam had not been harmed by Baal or his Jaffa. In fact, the Goa'uld had even offered to heal Sam's arm, which had been broken during the fight with the villagers. The major had told him that she'd rather suffer. Now, she was wishing that she'd taken him up on his offer since two working arms might be needed for whatever was coming.

"I believe that the battle is drawing nearer, Major Carter," Teal'c said.

"Yeah. Who do you think it is?"

"I do not--"

The Jaffa's reply abruptly cut off at the sound of another kind of weapon, one that was intimately familiar to both of them.

"That's a P-90!" Sam shouted. "Which means that some of our people are up there."

"Indeed it does," Teal'c agreed.

"I can't believe they're actually attacking this place to get us out. I'd never have thought that the general would agree to a rescue mission."

The hopes of the teammates rising, they continued to watch anxiously as the sounds of fighting grew progressively closer. Then, all at once, a dearly loved face peered down at them.

"Sam! Teal'c!" Daniel called.

"Daniel!" Sam cried back.

"Sam, are you hurt?"

"Major Carter's arm had been fractured," Teal'c replied.

"It's okay, Daniel," Sam quickly told the archeologist. "It's not that bad. We're just so glad to see you. I can't believe you got a green light for this."

"Yeah, well, it's kind of a long story."

Just then, three Jaffa came up behind Daniel.

"Daniel, look out!" Sam shouted.

"No, it's okay, Sam. They're on our side."

The archeologist turned and talked to the Jaffa in a low voice. The men bowed their heads and disappeared from view. At that moment, Jack became visible.

"Crap," they heard him mutter. "This looks _way_ too familiar to me." He started looking around. "There should be a control here somewhere for changing the gravity in there, or whatever it does. Ah! There it is. Brace yourselves, guys."

Knowing what was coming, Sam and Teal'c went to the wall that would soon be a floor and leaned back against it. Within seconds, they found themselves in a reclining position. A moment after that, Daniel and Jack were at their side, helping them to stand.

"Did Baal do that?" Daniel asked, looking at Sam's arm. The tone of his voice told her that, if she said yes, the Goa'uld would be in very deep trouble.

"No, it happened in the fight with the villagers. It really is okay, Daniel. It's not an open fracture."

"Well, you'll soon be home and under the tender care of Fraiser," Jack said. "You guys ready to get out of here?"

"Definitely, sir."

A Jaffa came up to Daniel. "Dan'yar, Baal has been sighted. He and a large group of his Jaffa are at the center of the stronghold. It appears that he is attempting to flee through the rings. What are your wishes?"

The question caused both Sam's and Teal'c's eyebrows to rise, as did the conversation that followed.

"How large is the force protecting him?" Daniel asked.

"Around a hundred strong. I believe that many of the remainder of his army have gathered to protect him."

"He probably realized that they were losing and needed the backup to help him get out."

Daniel hated the thought of the Goa'uld getting away, especially since he knew that a lot of rebel Jaffa had probably died in this assault believing that they were helping to destroy Baal. Yet the fact remained that an attack on a force that large in such tight quarters would result in a lot of casualties. "That's too many to take out without a lot of casualties," he said. "We. . . ."

Daniel's voice drifted off as he stared at one of the benches carved out of the walls of the cell. All at once, images had begun filling his mind. As they kept coming, something inside him hardened like stone. Everyone there saw the transformation in his face, not knowing what had caused it.

Daniel turned to the Jaffa. "Tell your brothers to keep Baal from escaping if they can but not to try bringing him down themselves. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

"Yes, Dan'yar." The Jaffa rushed off.

"Whoa. Wait a second, Daniel," Jack said. "You're going after Baal?"

"Yes," Daniel replied shortly, his voice as cold and hard as his expression.

"Look, I know that it would be great to get him, but it's like you said. There could be a lot of casualties attacking that big a force in such tight quarters."

"Don't worry, Jack. Remember that I said I've been taking it easy? Well, I've got plenty of juice left. I doubt those Jaffa will stick around long once I get there."

Jack studied his friend's determined face. "Did you see something?"

"Yes. Yes, I did."

"What?"

"I'll tell you later."

Jack shook his head. "It's too risky."

"Jack, I am in command of this mission, and I've made a command decision," the archeologist said firmly.

Sam blinked in surprise. "Daniel's in command?"

"Yeah, and I'm beginning to wish that I hadn't made the suggestion to Hammond," Jack replied, not at all happy.

"Get Sam and Teal'c out of here and back to the gate," Daniel told him. "They both need medical attention. Tell everyone to withdraw from the complex except those who are keeping the way out clear."

"Oh, now wait just one minute, Daniel. If you're going after Baal, I'm going with you," Jack declared.

Daniel's head shook. "No. What I'm going to do, I have to do alone."

"Dammit, Daniel. What the hell did you see? What's Baal going to do?"

"It isn't something he's _going_ to do, Jack, it's something he already did!" Daniel yelled angrily.

"What are you talk--"

"I remember, Jack! I remember what that bastard did to you. God, I remember it all."

Jack's eyes closed. "Shit," he whispered.

"And there is no way that he's going to get away with it," Daniel stated with determination. "I couldn't do anything before, but I sure as hell can now. So, just go, Jack. Get Sam and Teal'c to safety."

At that moment, there was the sound of a distance explosion, and the lights went out. What must have been the equivalent of emergency lights began flickering on and off weakly.

"SG-3 and 5 have taken out the primary power generator," Daniel said. "Baal's going to be getting desperate. I have to go." He started to leave but was stopped by Jack's voice.

"Daniel, don't do this for me. It's over, dead, in the past."

Daniel's eyes met his, eyes full of both anger and guilt. "Not for me it isn't, Jack. For me, it's like it happened yesterday."

"Be careful, Daniel," Sam said as the archeologist once again turned away.

"I will, Sam," he said, then hurried away.

"Dammit!" Jack cursed furiously. Why did Daniel have to remember what happened, and now, of all times? The colonel wanted to go after him but knew that the archeologist would sense his presence in an instant. There was nothing he could do except what Daniel had told him to--and pray that his friend would be all right.

Jack keyed his mic. "This is O'Neill. We've got Carter and Teal'c. Everyone withdraw to the main entrance except those who are keeping our escape route clear."

"What about Dan'yar?" Colonel Reynolds asked.

Jack paused. "He's going after Baal."

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Daniel hurried down the corridor, his senses seeking ahead of him, searching for enemy Jaffa. But he encountered no resistance, all of Baal's forces either having been dealt with or now gathered around their master, protecting him.

A part of Daniel knew that what he was doing wasn't the wisest of decisions, but the other, bigger part could only think about the memories of seeing one of his best friends brutally tortured over and over again--and the memories of standing by and watching helplessly as it happened. The guilt of his inaction was equally as strong as the rage over what Baal had done. Yes, it had been he who secretly placed the thought of Yu in Teal'c mind, which, ultimately, enabled Jack to escape, but that did not change the fact that he'd allowed his friend to go through that kind of suffering, offering only the option of ascension. Logic told Daniel that, if he had stepped in and done something more, Oma would have stopped him, but logic was not what was driving him right now.

The sound of staff weapon fire made Daniel increase his pace. He soon reached the place where rebel Jaffa had a large force of Baal's men trapped in a corridor. Daniel's senses told him that they were guarding a single room and that Baal was within it.

"Dan'yar!" called one of the rebel Jaffa. Daniel saw that it was Ka'ter.

"Ka'ter, pull the others back. I'll deal with this."

The Jaffa nodded and called to his brethren, who immediately obeyed the command to pull back.

As the staff weapon fire from the attackers ceased, Baal's Jaffa also stopped firing, wondering what was happening. Then, a single individual all in black stepped into view.

Before a single Jaffa could get off a shot, the dim, flickering light within the corridor was suddenly brightened like the sun as a mammoth ball of flame, filling the corridor from wall to wall, blazed into existence. It launched itself straight at them, barreling down the corridor like the fires of hell. Crying out in terror, most of the Jaffa fled, those that remained covering their heads and waiting for destruction. But the fire did not touch them. It sheeted past, blistering them with its heat, then dispersed into fiery tendrils that faded into nothingness.

As the remaining Jaffa looked up, they saw the lone man walking purposefully toward them.

"I am Dan'yar," he said. "Leave and you will be spared."

Hearing the feared name, most of those who had stayed hurried away, but a foolish few chose to fight. One got off a shot with his staff weapon and watched, stunned, as the energy blast was deflected with a wave of Dan'yar's hand. An instant later, the Jaffa was thrown through the air to strike violently against a wall. Several more Jaffa leapt up to fight but were also thrown back, landing in a heap thirty feet away. A few others cried out in pain as fire licked at their feet.

Realizing that they had no chance against this man with the power of a god, all of the Jaffa in the corridor fled.

Daniel's eyes turned to the doorway behind which Baal hid. His will hardening, he stepped forward, determined to bring the Goa'uld down.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Enraged, Baal paced the confines of the room. He did not know what enemy had dared to attack him, but, whoever they were, they would pay. Reports coming to him from his Jaffa had been confusing. Some said that the attacking forces were Jaffa, many hundreds in number. Others said that the Tau'ri were the ones attacking. One frightened Jaffa had claimed that Dan'yar was coming to destroy all of them.

Whoever it was, they had managed to trap Baal in this room. He had been on his way to the ring platform so that he could escape to his ship in orbit, but, instead, he and the Jaffa protecting him had been cut off from the ring room and forced to fight it out here. Baal knew that the ones who had done this were Jaffa, yet they did not fight like typical Jaffa. Instead of rushing forward into the battle, they took shelter and fired from safe locations, picking off Baal's Jaffa at an alarming rate. Only the fact that at least a hundred men protected Baal had prevented them all from being wiped out.

The cessation of staff weapon fire outside had the Goa'uld turning his attention to the door. A moment later, a loud roaring came to his ears, followed by cries of terror and the sound of running Jaffa.

"Jaffa, kree!" the Goa'uld said to the eighteen men there in the room with him. All of them hurried to the door, staff weapons aimed at it.

Baal thought he heard someone speak. Then there was the noise of more Jaffa running away. A single staff weapon blast was followed by a confusion of sounds: loud thuds, cries of pain and then more fleeing steps. And then there was silence.

For several seconds, everyone in the room stared at the door, waiting. Suddenly, the control panel for the door exploded in a shower of sparks, and the massive barrier began to lift. Baal's Jaffa started to fire into the opening, but soon saw that there was no one there. Confused, they ceased firing. An instant later, they were all tossed like leaves through the air to land with a loud clatter on the floor a good twenty feet away. And then there was fire everywhere, moving toward them and their master. Baal stumbled backwards, shielding his face.

Half-blinded by the flames, which now stretched in an impenetrable five-foot-high wall from one end of the room to the other, Baal thought he could make out someone come into the room.

"Jaffa. I am Dan'yar," said the man, whom Baal still could not see clearly. "Your master is defeated. Leave now and live."

The wall of fire opened off to the right, and, much to Baal's anger and dismay, every one of his Jaffa fled through the opening and ran out of the room.

With a resounding boom, the door to the room fell shut, cutting off both the Goa'uld's escape route and any chance that someone would be able to help him.

At that moment, the fire vanished, and Baal found himself face to face with the one called Dan'yar. Stunned, the Goa'uld stared at the shockingly familiar face.

"What manner of trick is this?" he demanded to know.

"There's no trick, Baal," Doctor Daniel Jackson said, moving toward him. "I am Dan'yar."

"That is not possible."

In the next instant, Baal found himself pinned helplessly against the wall by an unseen force.

"You were saying?" Daniel asked, taking a couple more steps toward him.

"Release me or I will punish you for your insolence!"

Daniel cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really. And how do you intend to do that when you can't even move?" His eyes flickered for a moment in the direction of the ribbon device on Baal's hand. It immediately jerked off and went flying across the room. "And unarmed as well," the archeologist added.

Daniel's expression hardened as he walked up to within a few inches of the Goa'uld. Baal looked into the blue eyes blazing into his and saw, not a weak Tau'ri, but a being of immense power.

"I know what you did to Jack, Baal," Daniel said. "I saw it. I saw how you tortured him again and again, sometimes to death. I was powerless to stop you then, but there is no one to stop me from doing something now. I could burn you inch by inch, crush every bone in your body, rupture your organs one by one. But I'm not going to do that, for that would also harm the innocent host whose body you inhabit. Instead, I'm going to do something far worse."

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Jack stared unwaveringly at the entrance to Baal's fortress. Sam was seated nearby, her arm immobilized in a sling. She had refused to go to the Stargate with the other wounded, just as Teal'c had. Apophis' former First Prime was sporting a few bandages here and there, but Jack knew that the wounds Baal's Jaffa inflicted upon him would be healed soon.

Right now, it was the third member of Jack's team who was filling his mind with worry. It had been quite a while since Daniel left to go after Baal, and everyone there could not help but wonder what his fate was.

The Goa'uld fortress was eerily silent, no movement visible. All of Baal's Jaffa had been either captured or killed. A large group of prisoners was off to the left, being guarded by rebel Jaffa. About forty of Baal's men had rebelled and joined the attackers. They were not yet being trusted with weapons, however, just in case.

Waiting along with Jack, Sam, Teal'c and the prisoners were SG-3, three members of SG-20 and most of the surviving rebel Jaffa. An impressive number of the Jaffa had made it through alive, and Jack knew that it was mostly thanks to Daniel's leadership and his insistence that they try to stay alive instead of rushing forward into the jaws of death like they had been taught for centuries to do when fighting for their god.

There had been no fatalities among the forces from Earth, though there had been a couple of injuries, one to a member of SG-20, another to one of SG-5's men. SG-5 and a group of rebel Jaffa had been sent with the wounded to the Stargate. They would be making arrangements with the SGC for the incarceration of the prisoners.

A few minutes ago, more of Baal's Jaffa had come rushing out of the stronghold, some of them looking a bit singed around the edges. They had been quickly rounded up and put with the other prisoners.

Jack's concern for Daniel was not just for his physical welfare, but also his mental and emotional state. The colonel could not get out of his mind the look that had been on Daniel's face, the expression of rage in his eyes. Jack worried about what the archeologist would do to Baal, not because he didn't want Baal hurt, but because he didn't want Daniel to suffer later with the guilt of what he had done to the Goa'uld.

Movement in the doorway of the structure, pulled Jack's full attention back to it. He watched intently as a sizable group of rebel Jaffa exited. There were two people in the lead and. . . . What the hell?

Jack felt his mouth fall open as he stared in shock at the sight before him. He heard a little snorting sound and turned to look at Sam, who had her good hand clamped over her mouth and was shaking with repressed laughter. The colonel turned back to the source of her mirth.

Leading the rebel Jaffa was Daniel, a real sight for sore eyes to Jack. Yet that was not what every pair of eyes was staring at, for, walking before the archeologist, bound at his neck and wrists by a makeshift device that worked somewhat like the old yoke stocks used on prisoners in medieval Europe, was a very naked Baal. Well, not _quite_ naked. Around his waist, was, much to Jack's amusement, a big red bow.

"Oh, God," Sam choked out. "That's just so. . . ." She couldn't say any more as she dissolved into helpless laughter. A moment later, others started to laugh as well. By the time the group came to a halt before them, over half of those assembled were laughing, both humans and Jaffa alike.

Daniel grinned broadly. "Hey, Jack. Brought you a present. I wrapped it myself."

That was the last straw for Colonel Jack O'Neill. He began laughing so hard that his sides ached and tears were threatening to fall. What made the whole thing even funnier was that Baal was desperately trying to maintain his dignified air--and failing miserably.

"How dare you laugh at your god!" the Goa'uld bellowed.

Jack let out a whoop of mirth and bent over, gasping for air. It took a lot for him to regain control.

"Love the present, Daniel," he said a bit breathlessly. "It's even better than the autographed card."

"Yeah, I thought you'd like it."

"It was nice of you to wrap it for me."

"Don't mention it."

Jack could now see that the red bow was made with a sash, probably taken from Baal's clothing. He could not believe that Daniel had done this. Yet, thinking about it and looking at the expression on Baal's face, Jack realized that this was a far worse punishment than any physical torture would have been. Baal was the kind of man whose dignity and public image were of upmost importance to him. To be publically humiliated like this would be torturous to him, torturous to _any_ Goa'uld, for that matter.

Daniel looked over at the captured Jaffa, and his smile grew wicked. "Come on Baal. Let's go say hi to your loyal Jaffa."

"I will not allow you to humiliate me further," Baal declared defiantly.

Daniel looked at him meaningfully. "Do you really think you have any choice?"

Baal started spewing out words in Goa'uld that Jack didn't have to understand to know weren't complimentary.

"Tsk tsk. Such language, Baal," Daniel said, shaking his head. "Does your mother know you talk like that?"

Grinning, Jack accompanied Daniel and a very unwilling Baal over to where the prisoners were. The captive Jaffa were all staring, shocked, at the sight of their mighty god being made a laughingstock.

"Here is your great god," Daniel said to them. "He doesn't look so mighty now, does he. In fact, he looks pretty ridiculous. If he really was a god, do you think that he'd have allowed this to be done to him? He is a charlatan, a pretender. He is no more a god than any of you. _None_ of the Goa'uld are. They are evil parasites who have been using the Jaffa for millennia as slaves to do their bidding. They are not worthy of your allegiance or your faith."

"Jaffa, hear me," Baal said. "I am your god. This one used trickery and surprise to bind me and strip me of my clothing. I merely await the right moment to strike back. Rise up and defend your god now!"

The prisoners stared in disgust at the Goa'uld.

"You are no god," said one. "You have deceived all of us with your lies and pretense."

Every one of the prisoners began to curse and deride Baal, their faces twisted with hatred.

"Give him to us, and we will kill him for you, Dan'yar," another prisoner said.

"No, it's not time for Baal to die, not yet," Daniel told him.

The Goa'uld was taken by Daniel and Jack back to where the others waited.

"So, what now, Daniel?" the colonel asked.

"Now, we go home."

--------------------------------------------------

To say that Hammond and the rest of the SGC were surprised when Daniel brought a naked Baal through the Stargate would have been an understatement. Actually, by then, Daniel had taken pity on the man, or, rather, on the _host_ and wrapped some cloth around his hips as a sort of loincloth so that certain "bits" didn't get frostbite on the trip through the wormhole. He'd also been given back his shoes. Even so, the Goa'uld was a source of a lot of laughter as he was escorted to the brig--especially since the bow was still in place.

"I have a feeling that you've got quite a tale to tell," the general said to Daniel and Jack.

"Oh, you can say that again," the colonel responded, grinning.

"I'll be looking forward to hearing it."

As Daniel, Jack and the other SG team members were getting their post-mission physicals, Sam was getting her arm put in a cast.

"Are there any other injuries I should know about?" Janet asked her.

"No, other than a few bruises and minor cuts, this is it. How's Teal'c?"

"He'll be fine, nothing that won't heal completely within a day or so. You, on the other hand, my dear, will be wearing this for the next six to eight weeks."

"Wonderful," Sam muttered, not at all happy at the thought of wearing a cast for all those weeks.

"So, I heard about what Daniel did to Baal." There was amusement in the doctor's eyes.

Sam's mood instantly lifted, and she grinned. "It was beautiful, Janet. I just about died laughing. I think the big red bow was the kicker." Her expression grew serious. "Did you hear that he remembered what Baal did to the colonel last year?"

Janet looked at her sharply. "No."

"That's why he went after Baal. He regained all his memories of when he was with Colonel O'Neill during the colonel's imprisonment. It was probably being in that cell that brought the memories back. I guess it was the same kind of cell that the colonel was kept in."

"So, he went after Baal for revenge."

"Yeah. You know, most guys in his situation would have made Baal suffer as much as Colonel O'Neill suffered. I can't honestly say that, if I'd actually witnessed what Baal did, I wouldn't have beat the crap out of him, if given the opportunity, and I _know_ that Teal'c would have torn him limb from limb. But Daniel. . . ." Sam shook her head. "I don't know how he stopped himself from hurting Baal." She paused. "Actually, I take that back. I think I know why."

"The host?" Janet guessed.

"Yeah. As much as Daniel may hate Baal, he wouldn't do anything that would cause the host suffering, if he could help it." Sam smiled softly. "I remember how gentle and kind he was to Apophis' host when Apophis was here after being tortured by Sokar. That man bore the face of the person Daniel hated more than anyone in the universe, yet he did everything he could to help the man find peace. Did you know that he actually made sure that funerary statue was buried in the Egyptian's homeland?"

"No, I didn't."

"In spite of everything that has happened since then, that kind of person is still inside Daniel. I found out from dad that Daniel had major issues about the fact that, if he released that poison at the Goa'uld summit, the hosts would die right along with the symbiotes." Sam smiled again. "He is such a good person."

"Yes, he is."

--------------------------------------------------

Despite their injuries, Sam and Teal'c were at the debriefing for SG-1 so that they could give their report on what happened at the village and during their time in captivity. Because the debriefing was for both the original mission and the rescue mission, it went on for a long time.

At one point, Jack halted Daniel's recount of what happened when he went after Baal.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," he said. "You just stood there in the middle of the corridor, facing all those Jaffa? Daniel, what did I tell you before about ducking?"

Daniel knew that the colonel was referring to what he said about the time that the archeologist stood in the path of the Al'kesh attacking the Alpha Site. "Actually, Jack, you told me to run next time, not duck. But I couldn't do either on this occasion. I knew that the impression I made on Baal's men was very important, and you have to agree that hiding behind something wouldn't quite have the same impact. I needed them to see me as fearless and powerful. I certainly wouldn't spout off things like, 'I am Dan'yar. Leave and you will be spared.' if I wasn't trying to convince them that they should get the hell out of there. That's sure isn't the kind of stuff I'd say under normal circumstances."

"You wanted to make yourself appear as intimidating as possible," Sam said, understanding his reasoning, though she also didn't like the thought of Daniel standing out in the open like that.

"Yes."

"I do understand your tactics, Doctor Jackson," Hammond said, "but, in the future, I'd recommend that you show a bit more caution."

"Yes, sir."

"Please continue."

Daniel went on to explain how he got in the room after psychically taking a look inside to see how many people were in there and where they were positioned. Since this was the first time that Hammond had heard about that ability of the archeologist's, he asked for some more details on it. Daniel then described his confrontation with Baal.

"Okay, I've gotta ask this, Daniel," Jack said. "What gave you the idea to do what you did to him?"

"I couldn't really say. I knew that the worse thing I could do to someone like Baal was publically humiliate him, and what could be more humiliating and embarrassing than being stripped naked and paraded around in public? Also, I knew that it would make him look weak and foolish to his Jaffa. They couldn't possibly still think he was a god after seeing something like that done to him."

Hammond nodded. "I would have to agree with you on that, Doctor Jackson." He smiled. "I also have to say that it was quite satisfying to see Baal humbled like that."

A short while later, Daniel and everyone else finished their narratives. Hammond turned to the archeologist.

"Doctor Jackson, I have spoken with the commanders of SG's 3, 5 and 20, and, though they have yet to officially debrief, they have already told me that you did an excellent job of commanding the rescue mission. Each of them said that they would not hesitate to be placed under your command again."

Daniel's gaze was glued to the table, clearly embarrassed by the praise.

"And well they should, General," Jack stated. "I give full credit for the rousing success of this mission to Daniel. He did a damn fine job commanding both the SG teams and the Jaffa, not to mention getting us all inside that place."

Daniel's blush deepened even further.

"There is one thing that concerns me, however," Hammond said to Daniel, "and that's the fact that you chose to go without backup to capture Baal. Though I can't deny the success of your actions, you should have taken Colonel O'Neill or at least some of the Jaffa with you."

Daniel at last lifted his gaze to meet the general's. "I knew that there were rebel Jaffa already there, so I wouldn't be alone when I got there. Maybe I should have taken someone with me, but I didn't want to risk any more lives. When the rebel Jaffa reported that Baal was being protected by a hundred men, I seriously considered telling them to let him go since too many would have been killed trying to capture him, even though I knew that the main reason why the Jaffa fought that battle was to get Baal, not to rescue Sam and Teal'c."

"What changed things?"

"I remembered what Baal did to Jack. I was there, General, in that room while Baal tortured him repeatedly. I remembered how angry and helpless I felt because I couldn't do anything to stop it."

"So, you're saying that personal feelings made you decide to go after Baal?" Hammond asked gently.

"Yes, sir, at least mostly. I knew that, if I was there, we could overcome Baal's forces pretty quickly without any casualties. So, I told the Jaffa just to keep Baal from escaping and not try to capture him themselves. In that way, the risk to them would be minimal. It is possible that I would have thought of doing the same thing even if I hadn't remembered about Jack, but remembering was what made me decide to do it."

Hammond gave a single nod. "All right. I'll expect all of your reports by 1700 tomorrow. Now, go home and get some sleep, people. You deserve it."

After showering, Daniel and Jack got dressed in silence in the locker room. It wasn't until after both men were fully clothed and ready to leave that Jack spoke.

"We need to talk, Daniel," he said.

The archeologist sighed. "Couldn't it wait until tomorrow, Jack? I'm really tired."

There was a weariness and strain in Daniel's voice that Jack hadn't detected before. "Head still hurt?"

"Yeah, but don't tell Janet. She'll make me stay overnight in the infirmary or, at the very least, run a bunch more tests."

"How bad?"

The archeologist paused. "Bad enough. I just need some sleep, that's all."

Really looking at him closely, Jack noticed that Daniel did appear to be rather pale, and those little lines around his eyes and on his forehead were testament to the killer headache he was apparently suffering. It was no wonder that Daniel was in pain considering how much he had used his abilities the last two days. Frankly, it was amazing that he was functioning as well as he was.

"All right, we'll talk some other time. Are you going to be okay to drive?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

The colonel nodded. "There is one thing that I want to say now, though."

Daniel turned to Jack. "What's that?"

"Thanks."

The archeologist was silent for a moment, then gave him a nod. Jack watched him leave, thinking that a man couldn't have a better friend than Daniel Jackson.

--------------------------------------------------

Daniel was late coming to work the next day, which was unusual for him. He was usually there early. Seeing that he looked a lot better than he had last night, however, Jack didn't make any comments. The guy had most definitely needed the sleep.

In his report about the rescue mission, Jack was sure to praise Daniel's stellar performance as mission leader. Upon reading the archeologist's report, he was not the least bit surprised that it was completely lacking in self-congratulatory pats on the back. The man's modesty was well known to the colonel. Reading the report, you could barely even tell that Daniel had been in command of the mission since he almost never mentioned the fact that he was giving the orders. The one exception was when he spoke of his command to withdraw their forces from the fortress. His report made it clear that it had been his decision to go after Baal and that Jack had advised against it, also stating that Jack had told him that he should take backup with him. The colonel knew that this was Daniel's way of making sure that, if there was trouble because of his actions, he and he alone would be hit by the fallout.

Jack was also proud of the way that Sam and Teal'c had stood up against Baal even when threatened with the same kind of torture that Jack had suffered at the hands of the Goa'uld. No commander could ask for a better team than what he had, which made what happened a few days later that much harder.

"Sit down, Colonel," the general said when Jack entered the office, his voice carrying that tone that told the colonel this was serious.

"I'm not going to like this, am I," he said as he took a seat.

"I just got off the phone with my superiors. They want me to offer Doctor Jackson command of his own SG team, and they made it pretty clear that they very much want him to accept."

Even though the announcement wasn't a surprise, it still hit Jack pretty hard. "It doesn't surprise me, sir," he said after a pause.

Hammond leaned forward in his chair. "I want your honest opinion, Colonel. Doctor Jackson did an excellent job of commanding that rescue mission, but is he ready to command his own team?"

"Yes. I knew that he was ready even before this mission, sir. He can be headstrong, and he tends to take too many risks with his own life, but, in spite of that, I think that he'd make a good commander."

The general looked at him with sympathy. "Jack, I know that you don't want to lose Doctor Jackson from SG-1, but there are a lot of people who feel that giving him his own command would be a tremendous asset to the Stargate Program. Do you understand their reasoning?"

The colonel nodded. "They figure that, with him in command of the team, he could do even more than he can staying on SG-1." He paused. "They don't want me holding him back."

"Don't think that they have a cavalier attitude about Doctor Jackson's safety, Colonel. They don't want to see him rushing headlong into situations that could get him killed. But they do feel that, with him in command, there is the advantage that he is in control and can plan the mission in the best way to make use of his abilities. In spite of my misgivings about that tendency of his to be headstrong and a bit too willing to risk his own life, I have to agree that they do have a point."

Jack sighed softly. "Yes, sir, they do, and, even considering what Daniel pulled on this last mission by going after Baal alone, I know that a team commanded by him would be an asset to the program." He thought of something. "Sir, did you tell them all the details about that?"

"I did not reveal the reason why he went after Baal, but, other than that, I was thorough in my report. They have copies of both yours and Doctor Jackson's reports, so they are aware that you told him he shouldn't do it."

"Which would have proven to them without a doubt that I hold him back. After all, Daniel succeeded and captured Baal. If I'd been in command, I'd have refused to allow him to go, and Baal would have gotten away."

"It could just as easily have gone the other way, Colonel," Hammond pointed out. "Baal might have escaped anyway."

"That's doubtful, sir, but, if that had happened, we probably wouldn't be sitting here talking right now since The Powers That Be wouldn't be quite so pleased with Daniel's performance."

"I'm afraid you're right about that."

There was a short pause. "Sir, I'd like to be the one to tell Daniel," Jack then said.

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Thank you, sir."

Jack left the office, his heart heavy at the thought that he might soon be losing Daniel from SG-1.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

That evening, Jack knocked on the door of Daniel's house. It was answered a moment later.

"Hey, Jack," Daniel said, clearly not surprised. Of course, since the man had the ability to sense the presence of people, it would be pretty difficult to surprise him like that.

Daniel let him inside and shut the door.

"Looks like we might be getting some snow," Jack remarked.

"Yeah, that's what the weatherman says." Daniel headed for the kitchen. "Want a beer?"

"No. Not this time."

That stopped Daniel in his tracks. Jack refusing beer meant that this was going to be a very serious discussion. But then, Daniel had already known that.

He changed directions and headed over to the couch and sat down. "It took you long enough," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Jack, I've been waiting for this heart-to-heart ever since the day after the rescue mission."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I kept putting it off, kind of lost my nerve." Jack settled in the chair. "I want you to tell me the truth, Daniel. When you went after Baal, what did you plan on doing to him?"

Daniel took a moment to reply. "I really don't know. All I knew was that I wanted him to pay for what he did to you. I was . . . really angry."

Jack sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I'd always hoped that you'd never remember what Baal did. I didn't want you to have that memory."

"Why?"

"Why? Daniel, I didn't want you to remember watching me being tortured, that's why. It's bad enough that _I_ remember."

"Did you also not want me to remember how I failed you?"

Jack looked at Daniel, who was staring at the floor. "You did _not_ fail me, Daniel."

"You thought so at the time."

Jack leaned forward. "Hey. You listen to me, Daniel. Yes, at the time, while I was in that cell, I didn't understand why you wouldn't do anything, even though you explained the rules of the Ascended to me. But you _did_ help me. You think I don't know that it was you who gave Teal'c the idea about leaking the location of Baal's outpost to another Goa'uld? Come on, Daniel. I may not be the smartest guy in the world, but I can figure things out. And after the stuff on Abydos, when we were all worried about what had happened to you, it really drove home to me what you had been trying to say about breaking the rules. You did what you could, Daniel, like you always do. Don't go developing a guilt complex over this."

Daniel's eyes drifted off to a spot across the room. "That was the start of it, you know."

"The start of what?"

"My doubts about whether or not the ascended life was all it was cracked up to be. I just couldn't understand why I wasn't allowed to help you, why the Ascended had those rules."

"And is that why you gave up on trying to make me go glowy and helped get me out of there instead?"

"Yeah."

"So, I was the one who pointed out the serpent in your Garden of Eden, huh?"

Daniel looked at him. "I guess you could say that."

"Good."

"Good?"

"I'm not happy that I dimmed your joy of being ascended, Daniel, but I'm glad that I made you start to question whether or not things were as great as you thought they were. It's best when illusions like that are broken slowly rather than shattered all at once. It's a lot easier to take."

Daniel smiled a little. "That's pretty profound, Jack."

"Well, I have my moments." Jack's face became utterly serious.

"There's something else, isn't there," Daniel guessed.

"Yeah. Hammond talked to me earlier today. The guys in charge want you to have your own team."

Daniel didn't respond for a brief moment. "Well, we already knew that might happen one of these days."

"Yes." Jack stared down at his hands, which were clasped loosely between his knees. "I think you should accept."

The utter silence from the couch made Jack look over at his friend. There was shock on Daniel's face. Worse than that, there was hurt.

"You . . . want me to leave SG-1?" the archeologist asked, his voice touched with the same pain that was on his face.

"No! No, I don't want you to leave SG-1, Daniel," Jack immediately replied. "How could you think that?"

"Then I don't understand."

"Daniel, sometimes, a commander has to do something that's in the best interests of the military regardless of how much he may not want to. That rescue mission proved that you would make one hell of a good commander and that a team commanded by you would be quite an asset to the program."

"Jack, I had a thousand Jaffa helping me, not to mention you and three SG teams. Somehow, I don't think that me and three other guys would have quite the same effectiveness."

"True, but it was you and you alone who took Baal down in the end. That's the second Goa'uld you've personally captured in the space of, what, two months? Two and a half? At this rate, you'll have gone through the entire population of System Lords within a year."

"And what about the fact that I rushed off alone to capture Baal? That sure didn't make _you_ happy."

"No, but, as far as they're concerned, you proved that you didn't need anyone guarding your six, at least not that time."

Daniel shook his head. "I just don't understand why they think that having me in command of a team would be so much better than if I stayed with SG-1. I'm already using my abilities on SG-1."

"Let me put it this way, Daniel. If I'd been in command of the rescue mission, when I told you that you shouldn't go after Baal, what would you have done?"

"Argued with you," Daniel answered bluntly, which made Jack smile just a little bit.

"Well, that's a given. I've come to expect that. But what if I'd put my foot down and still said no?"

Daniel paused a moment before replying. "I guess I would have done what you wanted. Despite all of your complaints about me not following orders, I've never openly defied you when you gave me a direct order."

"And that's why they think it would be better for you to have a team of your own. They don't want someone holding you back, Daniel. They want you to have full rein. They know that I'd sometimes keep you from doing things that you could probably handle because I considered it too risky. Of course, they don't want you taking on any suicide missions, but they want _you_ to be the judge of what is and isn't too much for you to handle, not me."

Daniel got up and walked over to look out the window. Though he could see nothing except his own reflection in the glass, he did not turn away.

Jack also got to his feet. "Daniel, I could have lied to Hammond and said that you weren't ready to lead your own team, but, as much as I may have wanted to for my own sake, I couldn't do that. You deserve more than that, and the program deserves what you can give to it as a team commander."

"And doesn't what I want matter?" Daniel whispered.

Jack stepped up to him. "Yes, it does. Of course it does. But I want you to think about it, Daniel, _really_ think about it. This is not something that you have to decide right away. You take as much time as you need. Hammond will keep the bigwigs from getting too impatient." He met Daniel's eyes. "But I want you to know that, no matter what you decide, I couldn't be prouder of you than I am right now."

With that having been said, Jack headed for the door.

"Jack?"

The colonel turned back to look at his friend.

Across the distance Daniel met his eyes. "I know that I haven't told you this before, and I know that you've probably had reason to doubt it at times, but, throughout all these years, there is no other team in the SGC that I would have wanted to be on except SG-1."

Feeling the warmth and gratitude that those words brought to him, Jack gave Daniel a little smile, then turned and walked out the door.

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning, when Sam returned to her lab after a visit to the infirmary for a routine check-up on her broken arm, she was surprised to find Daniel waiting for her.

"Hi," she said, smiling.

"Hi," Daniel responded in a muted voice.

Sam came up to him and sat down on her stool. "Oh boy. I get the feeling that something big is up."

Daniel also sat down. "I've been offered my own command."

Sam stilled in surprise. "You have?"

"Yeah."

"That's uhhh . . . that's. . . . Wow." Sam shook her head. "I don't know why I'm surprised, not after the great job you did on the rescue mission."

"Yeah, well, that's really only part of the reason, Sam. The main reason is my abilities. The guys in charge think that a team commanded by me would be able to get into places no other team could, accomplish missions that would be too dangerous or difficult for an 'ordinary' team."

"Well, they do have a point, Daniel. You've already proven that your abilities can make the impossible possible."

Daniel sighed and laid his forehead on his hands, elbows resting on the table.

"I'm getting the feeling that this isn't good news to you," Sam stated.

"I was up all night thinking about it. Jack thinks that I should accept."

Again, Sam was surprised. "He does?"

"He doesn't want me to leave SG-1, but he thinks that a team under my command would be an asset to the SGC."

The major thought about that and nodded. "He's right. It would."

Daniel lifted his head and looked at her. "I don't know what to do, Sam. I don't want to leave SG-1. I want to stay with you, Jack and Teal'c. But if I really could be of better use as the leader of my own team. . . . More than anything else, I want to see an end to the Goa'uld. That's what we've all been fighting for all these years."

"Daniel, I don't want you to leave SG-1 either, but I can't let what _I_ want deny the SGC of something that could really help accomplish our ultimate goal, no more than Colonel O'Neill could." Sam slid her hand across the table and laid it over Daniel's. "But if leaving SG-1 is going to make you miserable, don't do it. You can't be an effective team leader if your heart isn't in it."

Daniel turned his hand upward and wrapped his fingers around Sam's, giving them a squeeze. "Thanks, Sam."

Still not knowing what he should do, Daniel went to talk to his third teammate. Teal'c was not at all surprised by Daniel's announcement.

"It pleases me that the leaders of the Stargate Program recognize your ability to be in command of your own team and the great things that you could do in such a position," he said.

"So, you think that I should accept, too?"

"Though I would miss your presence on SG-1, I believe that the SGC would benefit greatly from having a team commanded by you." Teal'c gaze grew more penetrating. "Do you not wish a team of your own?"

"To be honest, no. I like being where I am, on SG-1. I like working with the three of you. If I left to command my own team, I'd miss you guys a lot."

"Would we still not see each other here at the base?"

"Yes, but it wouldn't be nearly as often," Daniel replied. "We'd likely be on missions at different times, and there wouldn't be as many reasons for us to get together while on duty. And we wouldn't be working together on missions."

"Is this the only reason for your reluctance to accept command of your own team?"

"No. I'm just not sure if I want my own team. Before the rescue mission, when I was first put in command, I was scared, Teal'c. I was afraid that I didn't have what it takes, that I'd mess up."

"But the success of that mission and the words of praise from the team leaders must have shown you that you can lead successfully."

Daniel shrugged. "I still have my doubts. After all, I had an entire army backing me up that time. But it's more than that. I'm not an ambitious man, Teal'c. I never had this burning desire to get to the top of the ladder, to be a big, important person. If I did, I'd never have done something that I knew might shoot my career down in flames. Commanding my own team is not a goal I ever had. It isn't a goal that I ever even considered up until a short while ago. I never even seriously thought about having my own archeological team. Now that I've been given this offer, I think about it, and it _still_ isn't something that I would choose to have."

"You do not wish to lead."

"Not on a permanent basis, no. If another mission ever came up like this last one, when having me in command would be the best thing, then I'd do it. But to be a team leader on a daily basis? No, it isn't really something that I want."

"Then it seems to me that your decision is already made."

Daniel sighed. "I wish that was true. The thing is that I have to think about what would be best for the SGC, not what would be best for me. They think that a team commanded by me would be a powerful weapon against the Goa'uld. I can't say that I have as much confidence that it would make all that much of a difference, but even if it could make _some_ difference, if it could bring us just a little closer to destroying the Goa'uld, how can I let what I want get in the way? I have always put my own desires second to what was for the . . . the greater good. I can't stop now."

"Yet, if your heart was not in it, you could never truly be as effective a leader as you have the ability to be."

Daniel smiled slightly. "Sam said the same thing."

"You have always given your best to SG-1 and the SGC. Was it merely a matter of honor or because your heart was committed to what you were doing?"

"Before she died, my heart was committed to finding Sha're, and the Stargate Program was the best way to accomplish that. But, even when she was still alive, I found in the program and in SG-1 something that I enjoyed, something that gave me a sense of purpose. I would still have left if I'd gotten Sha're back, but I would have missed it. In the years that passed after her death, I lost a lot of the joy that I found in the program, but it was still something I wanted to do. Since coming back from ascension, I've regained my . . . enthusiasm for the job. There isn't another job in the universe that I'd rather have."

"And would that joy and feeling of commitment still be there if you were to leave SG-1 and command your own team?"

"The commitment would be. I will always be committed to what we're doing. But, like I said before, I wouldn't be as happy."

Teal'c looked closely at the archeologist. "Sometimes, Daniel Jackson, a person doing what makes _them_ happy is the best choice for all."


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The next day, the Tok'ra arrived. Jacob was one of the three who came. He was now with SG-1 and General Hammond while the other two Tok'ra interrogated Baal.

"When we got word of Daniel's rather . . . imaginative treatment of Baal, I just had to be among the ones who came here," Sam's father said with a smile. He turned his gaze upon the archeologist. "Most of the Tok'ra don't have what I'd call a sense of humor, but I have to tell you, Danny. You had more than one of them smiling. Me and Selmak just about split a gut, _my_ gut, of course. Whatever possessed you to do something like that?"

"Well, I could say that the devil made me do it, but I think it's more likely the influence of a certain colonel we all know."

Everyone there looked at Jack, who raised his hands.

"Hey, don't look at me," he said. "That was pure Daniel all the way. _I'd_ have shot the guy."

"Well, regardless of what made you do it, Daniel, you have caused quite a stir," Jacob informed him. "And not just among the Tok'ra. The rebel Jaffa have done an excellent job of spreading the news among all the other Jaffa, and it's having quite an impact. The fact that you did that to a being that is supposed to be a god has even more Jaffa questioning the godhood of the Goa'uld. There's been another dramatic increase in the number who have joined the rebellion. As for the Goa'uld, they are hopping mad. Baal may have been an enemy to many of them, but the fact that you dared to humiliate a System Lord like that has seriously pissed them off, especially since it's made it necessary for them to do some major damage control among both their Jaffa _and_ their human slaves."

"Is this something we have to worry about, Dad?" Sam asked.

"Other than the fact that the System Lords are even more determined to find out who and where this Dan'yar is, no, I don't think so. Frankly, we're just all tickled pink that the Goa'uld have been given such a big black eye. This single act did more to damage their image than the death of half a dozen System Lords combined could have. It's one thing to manage to _kill_ a god, it's something else to turn one into a source of mockery and amusement. That's not supposed to be able to happen to a god."

"Well, I'm glad that I could help out in the embarrass the System Lords department," Daniel said.

"Yeah, the next time we're in a position to capture a Goa'uld, we'll do our best to embarrass the System Lords some more," Jack said with a grin. "I think that good old Yu would look great in a pink tutu, don't you?"

As everyone had expected, the Tok'ra did not succeed in getting anything useful from Baal. They were now preparing to remove the symbiote from the host, though none of them believed that the host's mind would be intact afterwards, not after so many thousands of years of being a host to a Goa'uld.

Both Jack and Daniel decided to say goodbye to Baal and went to the brig.

"Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Jackson," the Goa'uld said in an arrogant tone of voice. His gaze focused on Daniel. "Or should I call you Dan'yar?"

"Doctor Jackson will be fine," the archeologist replied.

"I have to admit that it surprised me to learn that you are this Dan'yar. Tell me. How is it that you came to have these amazing powers? I would almost guess that Nirrti managed to succeed with her plans before she met her end."

"Nirrti had nothing to do with it," Daniel told him.

Baal smiled haughtily. "Regardless of the source of your power, you are still nothing compared to the power of the Goa'uld."

"Well, that's real funny coming from a guy who was stripped naked, paraded around for all to see, and couldn't do a damn thing about it," Jack responded. "Face it, Baal. Daniel beat the pants off of you . . . _literally_, and he could do the same to any other Goa'uld he came up against. Osiris found that out, too. The System Lords are going down. You know, it's almost a shame that you're not going to live to see it. I'd love to see your face as you watch the Goa'uld empire go down in flames."

Baal glared at him. "You may think you have won, but the Goa'uld will destroy you and your world," his eyes landed on Daniel, "and no power possessed by a weak, mortal Tau'ri will stop it."

Jack looked at the Goa'uld in disgust, amazed that Baal could still be so blindly arrogant. "Come on, Daniel. Let's get out of here before I have to go get a shovel."

As the two men turned away, Baal suddenly collapsed. Surprised, Daniel and Jack stepped forward a pace. Without warning, the Goa'uld's mouth opened, and the symbiote leapt from it, heading straight toward Daniel. With a cry, the archeologist stumbled back, psychically striking out at it. The symbiote burst into flames and fell, squealing, to the floor. By the time the guards came rushing in, it was dead.

Daniel stared at it, wide-eyed. "God, it tried to. . . ."

"Yeah," Jack said, shaken by the near-miss. "He knew that the Tok'ra were going to kill him, and I guess he decided that he had nothing to lose and possibly everything to gain by trying to take you as a host."

Daniel gave a little shudder. "That was way too close, Jack. If he'd gotten inside me. . . ."

Jack put his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Don't think about it."

A small sound from the cell drew their attention to the person inside.

"He's alive!" Daniel exclaimed. "Open the door!"

One of the guards hurried forward and unlocked the cell door, turning off the laser beams. Daniel was inside in a flash, kneeling by Baal's former host. The man's eyes fluttered opened and looked up at him, eyes that, for the first time in thousands of years, held the thoughts and feelings of the person to whom they rightfully belonged. The man's hand grasped Daniel's weakly, and he whispered something that Jack couldn't understand. Then the life went out of his eyes, and he grew still.

Very gently, Daniel closed the man's eyelids.

"What did he say?" Jack asked.

Daniel looked up at him with an expression of deep sorrow. "'I'm free'."

The archeologist got up and left the brig. After giving orders to the guards about the bodies, Jack followed him. Daniel only went down the corridor a few paces before stopping.

"Thousands of years, Jack," he said sadly. "That man lived as a prisoner in his own body for thousands of years. And he was aware that whole time. I saw it in his eyes. God. I can't imagine living that kind of nightmare."

"It's over for him now, Daniel. He's at peace. And he had you to thank for it."

Just then, Sam, Teal'c and Jacob came running up.

"We heard the alarm," the Tok'ra said.

"Baal's dead," Jack explained. "He tried to take Daniel as a host, jumped right out of his old host's body. Daniel killed him."

"And the host?" Sam asked, inwardly shuddering at the thought of how close they just came to having Daniel taken over by a Goa'uld.

"He died a few minutes later," Daniel replied. "I'd, um, really like to get out of here now."

All five of them left and went to Daniel's office. From there, Jack called Hammond and filled him in on what happened.

"Are you okay, Daniel?" Sam asked, looking at the archeologist with a concerned gaze.

"I'm just a little shaken. Having it come so close to happening really makes me think about what would happen if I was taken over by a Goa'uld. This isn't the first time it's almost happened. I was nearly infested by one on P3X-888 when I tried to get away from Chaka by swimming across that lake. But, if it had happened back then, I'd have just been one more victim of the Goa'uld. If it happened now, with the abilities I have. . . ." His voice halted, not needing to say any more.

"Well, it didn't happen, Daniel," Jack said, "and what you did to Baal when he tried shows that it wouldn't be easy for any snake to get you."

--------------------------------------------------

Since Baal was dead, there was nothing more for the Tok'ra to do, so they left a short while later, Jacob promising that he'd come visit again as soon as he could.

It was the next day that Daniel went to speak to General Hammond.

"Sir, I've given a lot of thought to the offer of a command of my own, and I have to refuse, at least for the present," he said.

"May I ask why, Doctor Jackson?"

"I'm not ready to leave SG-1, sir. I still feel that it's the right place for me to be. We're a good team."

"Yes, you are, the best I've ever commanded, but I have confidence that a team with you as its leader would be a damn fine team as well."

Daniel ducked his head a moment. "Thank you for saying that, sir. Your confidence in me means a lot. I don't know what the future will bring. Things may change that will make me reconsider the offer, but, right now, I have to respectfully refuse."

Hammond studied the younger man's face. "I admire your commitment to SG-1, Doctor Jackson, and I respect the fact that you believe it's not the right time for you to move on to a team of your own. I know that there are those among my superiors who will not be happy with your decision, but I promise you that you will not be pressured to change your mind. The offer will remain open to you for as long as it needs to be. Three months from now, six months, a _year_ from now, if you change your mind, all you have to do is tell me, and a team will be yours."

"Thank you, sir."

"I assume that you want to give Colonel O'Neill the news?"

Daniel smiled. "Yes, sir."

"Then you go on and do that, Son. I have a feeling that you're going to make his day."

Daniel left the general's office and went in search of Jack. Much to his surprise, he found the colonel in his seldom used office.

"Wow, you're actually here," the archeologist said.

"I do occasionally spend time in here, Daniel. So, why are _you_ here?"

Daniel sat in one of the vacant chairs. "I just talked to General Hammond about the offer of my own team."

The slight stiffening of Jack's body wouldn't have been noticeable if Daniel hadn't been watching him so closely. "And?" the colonel inquired.

"And I really hope you meant it when you said that you wanted me to stay on SG-1, because you're still stuck with me."

About two seconds passed before a smile began to form on Jack's lips. The smile was quickly cut off, however. "Are you sure? We're talking about your own command."

"I'm sure, Jack. I told you before that I didn't want to leave SG-1, and that is still true."

This time, the smile wasn't halted. It just about spread ear to ear. "That's great news, Daniel."

"You're sure? This would be the perfect opportunity to get rid of that pain in the ass that you've always called me." There was a teasing note in Daniel's voice.

"Hey, like I told Edwards, you may be a pain in the ass, but you are damn well worth it. Besides, you're _my_ pain in the ass, and I want to keep it that way. Now, come on. Let's go tell Carter and Teal'c the good news."

Sam was absolutely delighted that Daniel had chosen to stay on SG-1 and rewarded him with a big hug. Teal'c, too, was happy about the archeologist's decision, but refrained from hugging him.

That weekend, SG-1 had their first barbeque at Daniel's new house, despite the fact that there was eight inches of snow on the ground. While Daniel, Sam and Teal'c stayed inside where it was warm, Jack was outside cooking, or, more accurately, _charring_ meat on the grill. In spite of the somewhat overly done steaks, everyone had a great time.

"To SG-1," Jack toasted.

"To SG-1," the others repeated.

--------------------------------------------------

The next few days passed uneventfully, giving everyone a nice break. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. Daniel was called to General Hammond's office, where he was given some news that really didn't make him happy.

"Doctor MacKenzie will be arriving tomorrow," the general informed him. "He has been authorized to perform a psychological evaluation on you."

"What? Why?"

"Because he feels that the strain of your newfound psychic abilities and all of the things that have happened over the past few months may make it necessary for you to undergo counseling. He has been trying to get permission for this for the past two months, but no one would give it. I guess they didn't want to rock the boat since you are considered a very valuable asset. These events of the past couple of weeks, however, finally gave him enough ammunition to succeed."

"Oh, let me guess. He thinks that what I did to Baal on that planet is a sure sign that I'm mentally disturbed."

"I know it's absurd, Doctor Jackson, but, short of complaining directly to the president, there's nothing I can do. I know that you have no reason to like or trust the man, but my advice is to just cooperate with him and get through it with as much patience as you can muster. Rest assured that his findings will be submitted to another psychiatrist for a second opinion."

"So, why is MacKenzie doing the evaluation himself? I know that he's still connected to the program, but he hasn't done the psych evaluations for the base personnel since he wrongfully committed me to Mental Health. Everyone here formally requested that another doctor replace him since they no longer trusted his judgment."

"He was adamant that he do it himself, stating that he has more experience with this kind of case."

"This kind of case? How many other people who can blow up Al'Kesh and lift Stargates has he treated?"

"None, obviously. Nevertheless, the person who signed off on his request agreed that he was the best person to do the evaluation."

Daniel went quiet for a moment. "Okay, but I have a request."

"Which is?"

"I want Eliza White to be here during the evaluations. She has a degree in psychology, and she already knows about the Stargate Program and my abilities. She will have to be told about the Goa'uld, but that shouldn't be a big deal. I trust her, and I know that she won't let MacKenzie get away with anything."

Hammond thought about the request, then nodded. "All right, Doctor Jackson, I'll see that she's brought in on this."

Doctor Eliza White arrived at seven o'clock the following morning. She greeted Daniel with a big smile and a hug.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Oh, pretty good. Lots of things have happened since I saw you last."

"Yes, I know. I received copies of all the reports on the things you've been up to these past few months." Eliza smiled. "You've been a busy guy."

"Tell me about it. I've always been busy, but ever since I gained these abilities, it seems like my life is a nonstop adventure. I assume that you were also filled in about the . . . other stuff."

"You mean the Goa'uld? Yes, I've been fully briefed. To say the least, it was quite a surprise to find out that we've been in a galactic war against a race of parasites for the past seven years."

"I can imagine so."

"Come on. Let's sit down." The two of them took a seat at Daniel's desk.

"Okay, so tell me about this Doctor MacKenzie."

"Well, he and I have quite a history, and it's not a good one."

Daniel went on to tell Eliza about the time that he was infested with Machello's Goa'uld killing parasites, mistakenly diagnosed as schizophrenic, and thrown into a padded room.

"And he never even considered that there might be an alien source for your illness?" the therapist asked, appalled by the story of what Daniel was put through.

"Nope. He was positive that it was caused by traveling through the Stargate. It was his pet theory, and he was eager to have something that proved it, so he didn't look any farther than that. Now, there is the fact that Janet didn't find anything in the scans she ran except for the high levels of dopamine, but. . . ."

"But other possibilities should still have been considered," Eliza finished. "It was utterly irresponsible of Doctor MacKenzie to ignore every other possibility in favor of an unproven theory. Just how much evidence did he have to support this theory of his?"

"Not much, which none of us knew at the time. He made it sound as if he had plenty of evidence, but what he did have really wouldn't have held up if he'd presented it to other psychiatrists."

Eliza shook her head in disgust. "Daniel, what he did was a clear case of malfeasance, perhaps even malpractice. I'm surprised that he wasn't removed from his position as the program's head of psychiatry."

"Another psychiatrist was brought in to do the psych evaluations from that point on since no one here trusted MacKenzie anymore, but he retained his title as head of psychiatry," Daniel explained.

"Yet he's the one who's going to be doing this evaluation rather than the other person?"

"Yes. I'm not looking forward to it."

"Well, don't worry, Daniel. I'll be right there in the room with you."

Doctor MacKenzie arrived a couple of hours later. He set up a temporary office in one of the empty rooms on Level 17. When Daniel was asked to report to the office, the doctor frowned when he saw that the archeologist was not alone.

"This evaluation must be conducted in private, Doctor Jackson," he said.

"This is Doctor Eliza White," Daniel introduced. "She is a trained psychologist, as well as an expert in biofeedback therapy. It was through her biofeedback training that I gained the ability to tap into my paranormal skills. She is here at my request and will remain with me throughout the evaluation."

MacKenzie's frown deepened. "I was not told about this. It is highly irregular."

"Well, if you don't like it, you can always leave," Daniel told him with a closed-mouth smile that held no humor in it.

"Very well. Let's get started."

All three of them sat down, MacKenzie on one side of the table, Daniel and Eliza on the other. The therapist pulled out an audio tape recorder.

"Do you mind if I record this as well?" she asked, pointing at MacKenzie's recorder.

"No, go ahead," the psychiatrist replied. He turned to Daniel. "First of all, Doctor Jackson, I'd like you to tell me what your personal feelings are about these psychic abilities of yours. Do you enjoy having them?"

"Not really," Daniel answered. "Until fairly recently, I considered them to be more of a curse than a gift."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Because they completely changed my life, turned it upside down. Before this happened, I was just another guy. Then, all of a sudden, lots of people were looking at me like some kind of comic book superhero, while others thought of me as a fascinating test subject that they wanted to dissect. I was forced to leave SG-1 because I was deemed too valuable a commodity to risk on off-world missions, and several people tried to have me put in a secured facility where they could figure out what made me tick and use my abilities for their own purposes."

"Yes, according to your file, you ran away through the Stargate because you didn't like the fact that you had been taken off SG-1."

"You make it sound like I was a spoiled child who ran away from home because a favorite toy was taken away from me. I left because I felt that my abilities would better serve Earth and the rest of humanity out there than they would if I was stuck behind a desk."

"So, you saw yourself as some kind of savior of humanity?"

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "No, I saw myself as a man who had the ability to do some good out there."

MacKenzie jotted something down. "You said that, up until fairly recently, you viewed your abilities as a curse. What changed things?"

"My precognitive abilities saved the life of someone I care about."

"Ah, yes. Doctor Fraiser. You saved her life while on the mission to rescue Airman Wells."

"Yes. Because of my ability to see the future, I'd already prevented Major Carter from being killed and managed to save some lives at the Alpha Site when it was attacked, but what happened with Janet really drove home how that ability could, literally, be a lifesaver. It very recently saved _my_ life."

"Yes, the murder attempts on your life. The assassin was killed, wasn't he?"

"Yes, by the vortex of an opening wormhole."

The psychiatrist stared at Daniel. "Did you drive him into it?"

Daniel's mouth fell open, unable to believe that the man had actually asked that. "E-excuse me?"

"Doctor MacKenzie, if you read the report, you know very well that Doctor Jackson tried to get the man off the ramp," Eliza said angrily.

"Because he was holding a hostage that would have been killed as well," MacKenzie said.

"Now look," Daniel said, his temper rising. "I didn't lead him to the gate room, and I certainly didn't tell him to walk up that ramp. I tried everything I could to get him off that ramp short of psychically lifting him off it."

"And why didn't you do that?"

"Because he had his hand around Sheila's throat. He could have easily snapped her neck. I was afraid that, if I tried to move him, he'd panic and kill her. In the end, the best that I could do was save just her. If it hadn't been for the iris failing, there wouldn't have been any danger to them." Daniel's eyes shot daggers at the man. "And if you even _hint_ that I had something to do with that or that I knew ahead of time that it was going to happen, I am going to walk right out that door, and you'll have one hell of a time getting me back."

"And I will immediately report to General Hammond that you are falsely accusing Daniel of murdering that man," Eliza added.

"I am making no accusations," MacKenzie said coolly. "I am merely trying to establish the facts and determine a pattern of behavior."

"Well, I can assure you, _Doctor_, that my pattern of behavior does not include deliberately leading people to their deaths," Daniel told him darkly.

"All right, let's move on. What are your present feelings about your abilities?"

"I recognize that they are a valuable asset to the Stargate Program. They can save lives, and they can help defeat the Goa'uld."

"So, you do enjoy having them."

"No, I didn't say that. I don't get a thrill out of using them. It doesn't give me any kind of high. In fact, when I use them extensively, it makes me physically ill, as I'm sure you know."

It was Eliza who answered. "Headaches, sensitivity to light, nausea and other migraine-like symptom," she said. "You have experienced some intracerebral hemorrhaging as well. According to Doctor Fraiser's medical report, she is concerned that you could suffer brain damage if you use your abilities too much."

"Yes, that's right. She's reminding me of that fact constantly." Daniel turned back to the psychiatrist. "Since I don't enjoy pain, Doctor, that should tell you that I don't use these abilities for the fun of it."

"Yet the fact remains that, since you first developed them, you have used them repeatedly, and not every occasion was while saving a life or fighting the Goa'uld. For instance, you put on demonstrations for the rebel Jaffa twice."

"I didn't really have much of a choice. The first time, the Jaffa suspected me of being in league with the Goa'uld and wanted proof that my abilities weren't a trick. The second time, I was also proving that they weren't a trick."

"That second time, you proceeded to fight in hand-to-hand combat with a Jaffa, using your abilities to give you an advantage, and, according to Colonel O'Neill's report, you," he started reading his notes, "'got the Jaffa into a stranglehold and choked him into near unconsciousness.'"

"Yes, and then I let him go. I'm not going to bother telling you why I fought Har'tec since that report would have already told you why. And before you ask if there was any way that I could have avoided the fight, I'll say, yes, I could have refused to fight him. Of course, then, we'd no longer have the rebel Jaffa as allies. I'd say I made the right decision. But then, that's just _my_ opinion. Feel free to form your own. You're good at that, even if your opinions aren't always based on facts."

Amused by the sarcastically spoken comment, Eliza tried not to smile.

Clearly not appreciating Daniel's remark, MacKenzie frowned severely. "You've been under a lot of stress since all this began. I should imagine that the responsibility that comes with possessing that kind of power is not easy to bear."

"No, it's not," Daniel admitted.

"How do you deal with it?"

"The weight of responsibility or the stress?"

"Both."

"I deal with the responsibility by choosing to accept it and by telling myself that I'm strong enough to handle it. I had my doubts in the beginning, but, since then, I've learned that I can handle it." There was a slight pause. "As for the stress, I go out and murder psychiatrists in their sleep."

MacKenzie looked up sharply from his notes and saw the little smirk on Daniel's face. "I don't appreciate your humor, Doctor Jackson."

"Really? I thought it was very funny," Eliza said, smiling broadly.

"Being the member of an SG team is already a very stressful job," Daniel said, completely serious now. "This just added a different layer to that stress. Yet, at the same time, it relieved a lot of the other stress."

"How so?" MacKenzie asked.

"Because I know that, with these abilities, I am better able to protect my teammates and myself and that I am more capable of fighting the Goa'uld and winning. That is a great relief to my mind."

"It's given you more confidence."

"In some regards. I feel more confident that we'll all make it back from a mission alive, and I have more confidence that, if we go up against the Goa'uld, we'll come out on top."

"So, it's given you a feeling of invincibility."

Daniel sighed loudly. "Why do you keep insisting on putting words in my mouth? No, Doctor, it does not make me feel invincible, far from it. I'm not omnipotent nor omniscient, and I am very aware of that fact. It was demonstrated to me yet again quite clearly when I failed to sense the danger to Sam and Teal'c on our last mission until it was too late. A greater sense of self-confidence does not mean that I have delusions of godhood. You're confusing me with the Goa'uld. It's too bad that Baal is dead, otherwise I'd arrange to have you talk to him. You'd have all kinds of fun psychoanalyzing a Goa'uld. Unlike me, they could use some psychiatric treatment."

"While we're on that subject, on the mission to rescue Major Carter and Teal'c, you chose to go after Baal on your own. Once you captured him, you proceeded to strip him of his clothing, tie a sash around his waist in the form of a bow, and force him to walk outside for everyone to see and laugh at. Would you like to tell me why you did that?"

"No, I wouldn't _like_ to tell you, but since that's the incident that allowed you to weasel your way in here, I will anyway. I did it because Baal brutally and repeatedly tortured Jack, and I saw it happen."

"So, it was an act of revenge."

"Yes," Daniel confirmed bluntly.

"I see."

"No, MacKenzie, I really don't think you do. Think about what I can do. Think about what I could have done to Baal, how I could have made him scream in torment the way that Jack screamed. Then ask yourself why I didn't do that."

"I'd rather ask you."

"Because I'm not that kind of person. Because I could never be that kind of person, regardless of how much power I have. To do something like that would make me no better than the Goa'uld."

"So, why didn't you simply capture Baal? Why humiliate him in that way?"

"Because, as someone recently pointed out to me, I'm human, and I wanted Baal to pay for what he did to Jack. Since I'd chosen not to put him through physical torment, I decided on a different kind of torment: striping him of his dignity and exposing him as a false god to his Jaffa."

"Did that give you a sense of satisfaction, causing that kind of humiliation to him?"

"Yes, it did. I enjoyed every minute of seeing him squirm. You can't tell me that he didn't deserve it."

"That is not for me to say, Doctor Jackson." MacKenzie closed his notebook. "I believe that we are finished for now. I will submit my report to General Hammond tomorrow morning."

Daniel stared at him narrowly, not trusting the man one bit. He got to his feet and left the room, Eliza right behind him.

"That man is a quack," the woman said as soon as they were far enough away.

"So, you noticed."

"My God, Daniel. I've encountered psychiatrists I didn't like before, but MacKenzie takes the cake. He was accusatory, extremely unpleasant, and, as you said, kept twisting things around and putting words in your mouth."

"Yeah, he didn't used to be that bad. He was just short-sighted and allowed his ambition and over-inflated opinion of himself and his theories affect his judgment and his ethics. In the end, he actually did the right thing by calling the base when I asked him to and not giving me more drugs. Some of what just went on in that psych evaluation kind of surprised me."

Eliza shook her head. "What just happened in there wasn't a psychological evaluation, Daniel, it was an inquisition, and that's what I intend to tell General Hammond and anyone else who needs to be told."


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

The following morning, Eliza was in Hammond's office when MacKenzie arrived. The man glanced at her, then handed his report to the general.

"That is my official report on my evaluation of Doctor Jackson. I believe that we have serious cause for concern, General. First of all, Doctor Jackson was rude, confrontational and disrespectful, which is a distinct difference in his personality from four and a half years ago. He is also exhibiting the first signs of megalomania. The frequent and excessive use of his power and the pleasure he derived from his treatment of Baal proves this. I would highly recommend that he be taken to the mental health facility for a more intense evaluation. It may be necessary to start him on drug therapy."

The way that Hammond and Eliza just stared at him made MacKenzie wonder what was going on. He found out a moment later when the general pulled out a file folder from his desk drawer and handed it to the psychiatrist.

"What's this?" MacKenzie asked.

"That's _my_ evaluation," Eliza replied, "both of Doctor Jackson and of you."

"General Hammond, I protest this," MacKenzie said, outraged.

"Protest all you like. It isn't going to do you any good," Hammond said smugly. "Doctor White was given my approval to make her own evaluation of Doctor Jackson's mental state and, at the same time, observe your conduct and evaluate your fitness as a psychiatrist. Would you like to hear what she has to say?"

Not waiting for a reply, Eliza began. "From what I saw yesterday and by reading the reports of the times that Doctor Jackson has used his paranormal abilities, I determined that he is mentally stable and has done a remarkable job of psychologically handling the power he now has and adjusting to the ways that it has changed his life. I can't say that I would have handled it as well. The use of his abilities has not been excessive, as you claim. He has used the amount of force that was necessary to accomplish what he needed to. Lesser displays of power might not have had a large enough impact. And as for that little incident with Baal, he merely displayed a perfectly normal human response to what happened to Colonel O'Neill. If someone had tortured a person I cared deeply about like Baal tortured the colonel, I'd want revenge, too. The fact that Doctor Jackson chose to publically embarrass Baal instead of physically torturing him is a perfect example of how emotionally and mentally stable Doctor Jackson is, not to mention that it displayed an amazing level of morality and self-control. Of _course_ he derived pleasure from what he did. So, did everyone else who was there. Are you ready to say that every one of the rebel Jaffa and SG team members who were there need psychological treatment as well? As for Doctor Jackson's attitude toward you, considering your history with him and the shameful way that you handled that evaluation, I thought he showed quite a bit of restraint. In my dealings with him, I found him to be very courteous and pleasant."

Eliza's expression hardened. "Which brings us to you, Doctor MacKenzie. I have never in my entire career met a more incompetent and unprofessional psychiatrist. Right from the start, you were accusatory, lacking in insight, insensitive and treated Doctor Jackson like a suspect that you were interrogating and had already decided was guilty. You deliberately twisted the meaning of statements he made to fit into the image that you had apparently already formed of him before you even came here. In my opinion, you are not fit to practice, Doctor."

"Your opinion holds no weight, Doctor White," MacKenzie declared arrogantly. "You are not a practicing psychologist. Your field of expertise is biofeedback therapy."

"Which is why we forwarded a copy of Doctor White's tape recording of the evaluation to someone who _is_ a practicing psychologist," Hammond informed him, "the man who has been performing the psych evaluations on the SGC personnel for the past four and a half years. Doctor Carson agrees with Doctor White's assessment of both Doctor Jackson and you. He was appalled by your conduct and has already reported it to the proper authorities." Hammond leaned forward and glared at the psychiatrist. "Though I can't be certain that you'll lose your license over this, I _can_ be certain that your job in the Stargate Program is at an end and that your career in the military is history."

"You can't do this," MacKenzie said, furious.

"Oh, yes, I can, Doctor." The general rose to his feet. "Now, get out of my office and off my base before I have you thrown out."

MacKenzie spun around and stalked out of the room. Hammond turned to Eliza.

"Thank you for your help, Doctor White. I haven't much cared for that man since his incompetence wrongfully put Doctor Jackson in a padded room. It was quite satisfying seeing him humbled."

"You're welcome, General. I did this for Daniel's sake, although, after seeing that man in action, I realized that I had to do what I could to have his license revoked in order to protect others as well. It may be necessary to review all of the case files of his patients over the last few years to make sure there were no other incidents of misdiagnosis."

"Well, if I have any say about it, that man will never treat another patient."

"I hope so, sir. I do have a question. What's going to be done about that report?" Eliza nodded at the file folder MacKenzie had given to Hammond.

"I assure you that it will be read by no one except the authorities who will determine Doctor MacKenzie's fate. It will never be entered into Doctor Jackson's record. Yours and Doctor Carson's reports will be the ones on file."

"Good." Eliza looked at her watch. "I have to get going, sir. I've got to get back to Denver. My daughter is in her school play tonight, and I promised that I'd be back in plenty of time to help her prepare."

General Hammond escorted Eliza to the door. "Thank you for coming, Doctor. If you ever decide to get out of biofeedback, you'll have a job waiting for you in the Stargate Program as a psychologist."

"Thank you, sir."

Wanting to say goodbye to Daniel, Eliza went to his office. She found that he was not alone. His three teammates were there with him. They all looked at her expectantly.

"You have nothing to worry about, Daniel," she said. "Both my report and Doctor Carson's state that your mental stability is without question."

"Really? You sure you didn't miss anything?" Jack asked, pretending surprise. He was subjected to a glare from Daniel.

The archeologist turned back to Eliza. "What about MacKenzie's report?"

"It was quite different, as we both suspected it would be. I'm not going to tell you what it said since it doesn't really matter. It's nothing but nonsense and will never be a part of your record."

"And what about the good doctor himself?" Jack wanted to know. "Is he going to walk away from this like he did the last time?"

"No, not this time, Colonel. His career as a military psychiatrist is over, and I'd guess that, by the time everything is over, he will no longer have a license."

"Yes! That's great news! I know that you and I didn't get along all that well when we were doing the biofeedback stuff, but you, my dear, deserve a hug for this."

Jack promptly gave the therapist the aforementioned hug. Daniel gave her another one, as well as a heartfelt thank you.

"Well, I have to say goodbye," she said. "I need to get home."

"It was great seeing you again, Eliza," Sam told her. "Please come and see us again sometime."

"I'll do that."

Everyone said goodbye to the woman and watched her leave.

"Well, this is what I call a good day," Jack said. "That pompous quack is _finally_ going to get what's coming to him. So, Daniel. How does it feel to know that you've been declared completely sane?"

"Pretty good, Jack." Remembering Jack's earlier comment and deciding that turnabout was fair play, he added, "Of course, _you_ probably wouldn't know how something like that feels."

It took a moment for Jack to realize what Daniel had meant by that remark. "Oh, that's just so funny, Daniel," he responded sarcastically. "No, really. I'm breaking up on the inside. You know, it's a good thing you're staying on SG-1. It'll make it easier for me to kill you without anyone knowing it was me."

Daniel smiled. "Well, you can _try_, Jack, but be careful. I don't think you want a bow wrapped around _your_ waist."

--------------------------------------------------

By some miracle, the next few weeks passed without any major catastrophes, disturbing events, or the need for Daniel to use his abilities. He, Jack and Teal'c went on two missions without Sam, but both of them ended up being routine. The colonel teased Sam that _she_ must be the jinxed member of the team, not Daniel, since every time they'd gone on a mission without Daniel, something still happened.

The one thing of note that happened during that time was a visit from Doctor Holt, the geneticist at Area 51. He apologized for the long delay in talking to Daniel, then told him that they'd learned some fascinating things from the archeologist's DNA but that, with Earth's present level of technology, there would be no way that scientists could tweak the DNA of a normal person so that it would possess the unique characteristics of Daniel's. Even so, they'd learned a lot of valuable information, and the doctor thanked Daniel for giving them the DNA.

The SGC Christmas Party was held on the Saturday before Christmas. It was an especially festive time for everyone, who couldn't help but recall the last Christmas, the one they'd spent without Daniel.

That thought was especially prominent in the minds of his three teammates. They all decided unanimously that the team Christmas Eve dinner should be held at Daniel's house. Because of this, the archeologist found his new home decorated with all manner of Christmas decorations, the huge tree in the living room being the highlight.

Most of the decorating was done with a great deal of laughter and girlish giggles by Sam, Cassie and Janet, accompanied by the sound of Christmas carols coming from the stereo. Throughout most of it, Daniel just stood back and watched them with a smile on his face, enjoying the sight.

Jack and Teal'c were both outside, hanging the Christmas lights. Daniel didn't even want to think about what the two men would do with them. He was just hoping he didn't blow a fuse when the lights were plugged in.

It wasn't long after he had that thought that Jack and Teal'c came inside.

"Lights are all done, guys," the colonel announced with pride. "Wanna come see?"

"I'm almost afraid to," Daniel replied under his breath. He joined the others outside, where, with a big flourish, Jack turned on the Christmas lights. Daniel and the three girls gaped at the display.

"Welllll, it's certainly . . . colorful," Janet remarked.

"I think my electric bill's going to look like the national debt," Daniel stated.

"Oh, hardy har har," Jack said. "Come on, it looks fantastic. I think that Teal'c and I did a great job."

The others stared at the sight of the entire two stories of Daniel's house decked from top to bottom with multicolored lights. Santa and all eight tiny reindeer were glowing on top of the roof, while a great big star shone above them. Icicle lights, interspersed with various colored regular lights, trimmed the eaves. More lights were wound around the columns and railings of the porch. Every tree in the front yard was twinkling with tiny bulbs that winked on and off like fireflies. The walls of the house were decorated with stars, angels and other figures, each one giving off its own bright glow.

Sam leaned in toward Daniel. "We could charge admission," she murmured.

"I may have to to pay the electric bill," he whispered back.

"It's . . . very pretty, sir, Teal'c," Sam said in a louder voice.

"Well, thank you, Carter. I'm glad _somebody_ likes it," Jack responded, grousing over the less than enthusiastic response to his and Teal'c's efforts.

Daniel looked at his house again. Yes, it was a bit on the garish side, but he could tell that the decorating had been done with a lot of care, and it warmed his heart that his friends did this for him.

"Thank you, guys," he said, the emotion of those thoughts in his voice. He looked at everyone. "Thanks to all of you for doing this. It means a lot to me."

Sam put an arm around his waist, giving him a little squeeze. "We're just glad that you're back with us, Daniel. Last Christmas was. . . ." She couldn't finish, her throat closing up.

"Last Christmas was a complete bust," Jack finished. "Nobody had any fun."

"We just kept wishing you were there," Cassie added, a little teary-eyed.

"Indeed," Teal'c intoned, that single word holding a wealth of meaning.

"And, now that you're back, we just want you to know how glad we are," Janet told him.

Daniel smiled, unable to speak.

"Come on, everyone," Jack said. "It's freezing out here, and I, for one, could really use a drop of Christmas cheer to warm me up."

The six friends went back into the house, the warmth of friendship giving them a glow deep inside.

--------------------------------------------------

Christmas Eve soon arrived. SG-1 was joined this year by Janet and Cassie. The six of them spent the evening eating, chatting, singing carols, and handing out gifts. As in years past, it was decided that one gift to each person would be opened that night. Jack opened the gift he got from Teal'c, which was a beautifully carved plaque showing a man fishing on a lake. Janet's gift to Sam was an old and very rare book on astronomy written back in 1902. Sam was fascinated by it and had to be dragged away from its pages. Jack's gift to Cassie was a pretty little leather handbag that he'd once seen her admiring. The gift from Cassie to her mother was a lovely dress that she knew Janet had been drooling over for weeks but hadn't justified to herself spending the money for. To Teal'c, Daniel had given a book on the history and codes of honor that warriors of Earth throughout history followed.

The last present to be opened that evening was the one that Sam got for Daniel. As he opened the box and pulled back the wrapping, a little gasp escaped his throat.

"What is it?" Cassie asked with eager curiosity.

Very carefully, Daniel lifted the object from the box. It was an exquisite vase, obviously Egyptian, depicting what Daniel realized was the rebellion against the Goa'uld on Earth. "Where did you get this?" he asked Sam in a hushed voice, knowing that it was not an imitation.

"SG-13 found it on the mission to P7M-662 a couple of weeks ago," she replied.

"So, why wasn't it given to the Archeology Department?"

"Because I saw it first. Well, sort of. Doctor Balinsky was the one who found it and the other artifacts that were brought back. I happened to be passing by the Archeology Department, and the second I saw that vase, I knew that you'd love it. You guys were gone on a mission, so I asked General Hammond if there was any way that the vase could be left off the list of artifacts found and be given to you as a gift. The general didn't see any harm in it since it was just a vase. All the guys in the Archeology Department liked the idea of you having it, so they agreed to keep their mouths shut. The general said that, since anyone who didn't know about the rebellion wouldn't realize what the images were depicting, it would be okay for you to have it at home, though he'd prefer it remain at the SGC. He did suggest, that, if you choose to keep it here at home, you put it in your bedroom so that fewer people will see it."

Daniel caressed the vase with gentle fingers, his eyes taking in the magnificently detailed artwork. It was the most beautiful Egyptian vase he'd ever seen, utterly unique and absolutely priceless.

Drawing in a deep breath, he very carefully placed it back in the box, then set the box on the coffee table. He turned to the woman who had given it to him.

"Thank you, Sam. It's the most beautiful gift I've ever gotten." He then pulled her into a tight hug, which she returned with equal emotion.

"Well you're _definitely_ gonna have to get that alarm system now," Jack stated. "You've gotta protect that vase, that is if you decide to keep it here." He'd been bugging Daniel to get the alarm system for weeks.

Daniel smiled and laughed a little. "Yes, I guess I do."

Cassie jumped up and grabbed her camera. "Come on, everyone. Picture time!"

There were several groans and sighs, but everybody got to their feet obediently. The teenager guided them over to the staircase and arranged them with Jack, Janet and Teal'c on one step and Daniel and Sam on the next step down. She then set the timer on the camera and quickly jumped into position on the other side of Sam.

"Everybody smile!" she said. A moment later, the flash went off.

As everyone began moving off the stairs, Cassie stopped them. "Ah, ah, ah!" she said, wagging her finger. Then she pointed that finger upwards. The gaze of the five other people lifted to see sprigs of mistletoe above their heads.

"Kissie, kissie," Cassie said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Cassandra Fraiser," Janet said scoldingly. "Just what do you have in your mind?"

"Why nothing, Mom. I just wanted to see all of you suck face. Now, come on. Jack, Teal'c, give each other a big smooch."

The two men looked at each other with a sour expression.

"I would rather be tortured with a pain stick," the Jaffa stated.

"While stark naked," Jack added.

"Aw. Too bad," Cassie said with an exaggerated pout. "Well, okay, no same sex kisses. All the boys just kiss all the girls."

"Well then, you have to come over here, too, young lady," Cassie's mother said.

"That's right. You were also under the mistletoe for a while," Sam agreed.

The teen looked at the three handsome men and sighed dramatically. "Well, if I must."

She bounced over to them and was given the first three kisses, all on the cheek, of course. What followed were more kisses on the cheek amongst everyone else. Daniel felt very sympathetic toward Teal'c, who was obviously pretty uncomfortable about the whole thing.

The party came to an end shortly after that. Though Jack, Sam and Teal'c were going to be spending the night at Daniel's for Christmas breakfast and the unwrapping of the rest of the presents, Janet and Cassie needed to go home. Each of them gave the archeologist a hug before they left.

"We really had a good time," Janet told him. She looked at him more closely, her voice dropping. "Those three people over there missed you an awful lot, Daniel. I have never seen three sadder faces at Christmas time than what I saw on them a year ago."

Daniel glanced over at his teammates, who were in a conversation at the moment. "I'm really sorry I put them through that pain, but. . . ."

"But it feels good to know they care about you that much."

Daniel smiled slightly. "Yeah."

Janet gave him a pat on the arm. "Just don't forget it, and don't forget that we _all_ care about you a great deal."

"I won't, Janet. I promise."

--------------------------------------------------

Christmas morning dawned crystal clear, the sunlight sparkling off the snow that had fallen the previous night.

Like last night's dinner, Christmas breakfast was a team effort, Sam cooking the eggs as Jack fried the bacon, Daniel made the toast and served the juice, and Teal'c set the table.

Once the meal had been eaten and the dishes rinsed, they all went into the living room for the unwrapping of the gifts. Everyone loved the presents that they'd gotten from their teammates and those given to them by others. It seemed that Daniel had given extra special thought to the gifts he gave this year. Sam in particular was surprised and awed by her gift, a golden Egyptian amulet delicately inlayed with amethyst, lapis lazuli, emeralds, garnets, and tiny beads of silver, the figure of a leaping cat was on either side.

"Daniel, this is beautiful. Where did you get it?"

"Actually, I had it made for you."

"What?" she said, shocked.

"I still have some connections in Egypt, a few friends in the community. One of them is a jeweler who specializes in custom orders. I just thought that you might like to have something Egyptian since most of the artifacts of mine that you kept for yourself were from Egypt. I had noticed that two of them had cats on them, and I remembered Schrodinger, so I decided on a cat motif."

Sam gazed at the beautiful piece of jewelry, thinking of the time, money and effort Daniel had put into having it crafted for her. "Daniel, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say a word, Sam, except maybe 'thank you'."

Sam suddenly threw her arms around Daniel's neck. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, holding him tightly. "This is one of the most wonderful gifts I've ever been given," she added as they drew apart.

Daniel smiled at her. "I just wanted to say thank you, Sam, for being here for me, for being a good friend." He looked at the other members of his team. "That goes for all of you. These months since all this began haven't been easy for me, and, well . . . thanks for standing by me."

"Where else would we be, Daniel?" Jack asked.

"Indeed, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c added. "We are your friends, and friends stand at each other's side regardless of what transpires."

Daniel smiled and swallowed tightly, grateful that he had friends like them.

Normally, if it was possible, Sam would have gone to spend some time with her brother and his family, but she had decided not to this year, partly because she hadn't wanted to make up a story about her broken arm and partly because she wanted to spend all of this Christmas in Daniel's company. She had missed him desperately last Christmas, so much so that she hadn't wanted to go to the party at the SGC. She finally decided to go because she'd been hoping that it would cheer her up, which it didn't. When General Hammond stepped up and gave a toast to all the men and women who were no longer with them, it had been necessary for Sam to excuse herself and seek privacy in the bathroom, where she'd sat and cried for the next ten minutes until Janet came in and they shared a few tears together.

As for the team dinner, there hadn't been one. Jack hadn't even suggested it. Each of them ended up spending that night alone, and, in Sam's case, doing nothing but think about Daniel. She didn't know about Jack and Teal'c, though she suspected that the archeologist had been on their minds, too. Judging by Jack's manner the day after Christmas, Sam suspected that he spent most of the holiday inside a bottle of beer. This Christmas was so very different, and Sam had never felt happier.

The four teammates decided to spend the rest of the day together, watching old Christmas movies on TV, chatting and eating leftovers. As Jack, Sam and Teal'c left that evening, there were joyful looks on their faces, all of them happy that they had been able to spend this Christmas with their friend.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Not quite a week after Christmas, Sam finally got her cast off. Compared to her other forearm, the left one looked thin and fragile, and the major knew that she was going to have to do some serious workouts in the gym to get it back in shape. She'd also have to do some special exercises to regain the mobility in her wrist joint, which felt stiff and weak.

"Now, don't go overboard with the exercising, Sam," Janet cautioned. "Start slowly and work your way up. If you go slow and easy, you'll soon have that arm back to normal without suffering any discomfort."

Sam jumped off the bed. "Got it. I'll take it easy."

She left the infirmary and headed back to her lab, enjoying the feeling of how light her arm was without its plaster prison.

Having ten fully functional fingers and the lack of the clumsy cast sure did make a difference in how quickly she could work and what she could do without help. She had hated being dependent on others all these weeks to do tasks that she'd been able to easily do alone before she broke her arm. Sam vowed to never again take the lack of a handicap for granted.

It was New Year's Eve tonight, and the party was being hosted by Jack, which meant that there would be no lack of beer and other alcoholic beverages. Sam could foresee the SGC having a whole lot of people walking around with killer hangovers in the morning.

It was just a couple of minutes after nine when Sam arrived at Jack's house. There were already several people there, who had apparently dug right into the beverages and finger foods laid out on the table.

"Hello, Carter. Glad you could make it," Jack greeted.

"Thanks, sir." Sam looked around. "Daniel and Teal'c aren't here yet? I thought I saw Daniel's car outside."

"Yes, he's here. He helped me set up this shindig. He said it was the least he could do to repay me for making his house bright enough to act as a night landing pad for alien spaceships." Jack's expression turned slightly thoughtful. "You know, he didn't used to be that sarcastic. I think I taught him some bad habits."

Sam fought back a smile. At that moment, she saw the topic of their conversation come out of the kitchen.

"Hi, Sam," he greeted with a smile.

"Hi. So, I hear that you helped with all this."

"Yep. I made sure Jack got things for people to snack on besides potato chips and avocado dip."

"I was going to have other things," Jack insisted.

"Then why is that all that was in your house?"

"I just hadn't gone shopping yet."

Any further conversation on the subject was halted by the arrival of more people. Among them was Teal'c.

"T! Welcome, big guy," Jack greeted.

"Good evening, O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Major Carter."

"Hi, Teal'c," Daniel said to the Jaffa. "So, you ready for the new year?"

"Is there a reason why I should not be?"

"Well, I can think of one," Jack said, his good mood vanishing. "That slimy bastard will be taking office in twenty days." He looked at Daniel almost hopefully. "You know, there's still time for me to fix things so that he doesn't get a chance to be vice president." Daniel just looked at him sternly, causing the colonel to sigh. "You know, Daniel, there was a time when I'd have ignored you and done what I wanted to anyway." A little snort of laughter from Sam made Jack turn to her. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, I was just thinking that you could say the same thing about Daniel, sir."

"Yeah, but, now, when he wants to do things his way, I haven't a chance in hell of stopping him. Not that I had much of a chance before when he really had his mind set on something, but how do you stop someone from doing something when they can just psychically pick you up and move you out of their way? I can't even intimidate him with my tough colonel act anymore."

"When were you _ever_ able to intimidate me with your tough colonel act?" Daniel asked, his expression providing the answer, which was in the negative.

"Daniel Jackson is correct," Teal'c stated. "He did appear to be immune to any attempts at intimidation from you, even before he gained his paranormal abilities."

"Well, thank you _so_ much for confirming that to all of us, Teal'c," Jack said sarcastically.

"You are welcome, O'Neill."

The colonel looked at the two youngest members of his team, pointing at them. "And don't either of you say another word," he growled.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," Sam responded, trying to keep her face straight.

The party turned out to be a rousing success. Everyone chatted and had a good time as they waited for midnight to strike. Daniel, who usually limited his alcohol consumption to one or two beers and a single glass of champagne, ended up drinking way more champagne than that, due to the fact that everyone at the party seemed to be insistent on sharing a drink with him. Therefore, as the evening progressed, Daniel got to feeling quite good. Fortunately for him and everyone else, he wasn't feeling _so_ good that he got it in his head to play around with his abilities.

The good feeling started to wane shortly before midnight, being replaced by queasiness and the desperate need for some fresh air. He escaped out onto the back porch. A short while later, Sam came out to check on him.

"Daniel, are you all right?" she asked in concern.

"Just feeling a bit queasy, Sam," he explained. "I guess I've had too much to drink."

"Yes, you did seem to be downing quite a bit of champagne. It kind of surprised me. You usually take it easy with the alcohol."

"Yeah, I know. People kept shoving drinks into my hand and wanting me to toast this or that. I've been to pretty much every New Year's Eve party anyone at the SGC has thrown and you guys have attended, but I can't remember people acting like this before."

"There is one that you _didn't_ attend, Daniel," Sam told him quietly. "The one that was given last year. Siler hosted that one, and General Hammond insisted that we come, though, after how the Christmas party made us all feel, none of us wanted to. A whole lot of people talked about you at the party, and, well, it wasn't quite as festive as this one is. That's probably why everybody has been all over you. They're just glad that you're here."

"Oh. I didn't think about that."

Sam looked at her watch. "We should go back inside. They'll be starting the countdown soon."

"You go on, Sam," Daniel told her. "I think I'll stay out here in the fresh air. It was really getting stuffy in there."

Sam shook her head. "No way are you ringing in the new year alone, Daniel."

"Then . . . maybe you could stay with me?" he asked hopefully, really not wanting to be alone. "I don't think my head would take the sound of all those noise-makers being blown."

Just then, Jack came out onto the porch. "Hey, what are you two doing out here? It's almost midnight."

"Daniel wasn't feeling well, sir," Sam explained.

Jack looked at the archeologist. "What's up, Daniel?"

"Nothing, Jack. I just had a bit too much to drink and needed some air. Sam offered to keep me company. I'm fine."

"So, you two going to stay out here?"

"I think so, sir," Sam replied.

"Ah. Okay, if you insist," Jack said, then went back inside.

"That was odd," Sam said. "I didn't think he'd cave in that quickly."

Her puzzlement cleared a minute later when the colonel returned, Teal'c in tow.

"If you're going to be antisocial, then so are we," he said. "We are a team, after all."

Daniel smiled his thanks. At that moment, the countdown began, clearly audible to the four of them, who all followed along.

"Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . Happy New Year!"

Fortunately Jack had not brought any noise-makers with him, so Daniel didn't have to resort to arson.

Sam shared a hug with him, smiling brightly.

"Happy New Year, Daniel," Jack said with heartfelt emotion.

"You too, Jack." An odd look crossed Daniel's face. "Now, if you will all excuse me, I'm going to go."

"Go? Go where?" Sam asked.

"To the nearest bathroom. You see, I'm reasonably certain that I am going to be sick very soon, and I'd rather do it in private."

Not waiting for anyone's response, he made a hasty retreat.

Jack let out a chuckle. "Ooh, somebody's gonna have a big head in the morning."

"Looks that way, sir," Sam responded with a smile, sharing the joy her teammates felt that Daniel had been with them to share the beginning of this New Year.

--------------------------------------------------

As with many New Year's Eve celebrations, the party began to break up shortly after the arrival of midnight. By 1 a.m., everyone was gone except for Janet, General Hammond and SG-1.

The general looked over at the recliner with a fond smile on his face. The reason for the smile was the sight of a sleeping Daniel Jackson sprawled on it, his mouth hanging open slightly, the faintest of snores issuing forth. The archeologist had plopped down in the chair about twenty minutes ago and promptly fallen asleep. All those who had stayed behind to help Jack clean up had done so quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping man.

"Thanks for your help, General," Jack said, coming back from the kitchen with a dish towel over his shoulder.

"It was my pleasure." Hammond returned his gaze to Daniel. "You'll see that our boy gets home safe and sound?"

"Don't you worry, sir. Daniel isn't going anywhere tonight, except maybe to my guest room, that is if I can get him that far."

The general gave a chuckle. Then his expression sobered. "We had a great deal more to celebrate this holiday season than we did during the last one."

"Yes, we did, sir," Jack agreed, his voice telling Hammond that he was remembering the sadness of this time last year.

Hammond's expression became thoughtful as he continued to look at Daniel. "With all the things that have been going on lately, it's sometimes hard to remember that he really is just a human being like the rest of us."

"Not so much like the rest of us, sir, but I understand what you mean. What's good is that _Daniel_ remembers that. I often find myself thinking of that kind of power in the hands of someone without his morality, and, quite frankly, sir, it scares the crap out of me."

"Me too, Jack. I pray to God that is something we never have to deal with."

A few minutes later, the general left, as did Janet. Before leaving, the doctor pressed some pills into Jack's hand.

"For the headache he'll most likely have in the morning," she explained with a smile.

"Thanks, Janet."

Surprised at the colonel's use of her given name, Janet only nodded, then headed out the door. The remaining three conscious people in the house stared at Daniel's dead-to-the-world form.

"I really don't think I want to be him when he wakes up in the morning," Sam said, already feeling sorry for her friend.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "Daniel Jackson will not be feeling well after consuming so many alcoholic beverages."

"It wasn't really his fault, though, not entirely," Sam explained with a smile and a shake of her head. "I think that just about everyone at the party had a hand in it. Daniel said they kept making him share toasts with them."

"They were all just glad that he was here to celebrate with them," Jack said. "If we'd been serving alcohol at the Christmas party, Daniel probably would have gotten smashed then, too. I guess we're just lucky that he didn't get so drunk that he started doing parlor tricks with his abilities. A drunk pyrokinetic archeologist is not something I want to think about. I might not have had a house left standing." He looked at his watch. "You two had better get going. It's nearly 0130."

"Do you need help getting him into bed, sir?"

"I think I can manage, and, if I can't, I'll just leave him in the chair. It reclines."

"Would Daniel Jackson not receive a more restful night's sleep in a bed?" Teal'c asked.

"Yes, he would," Sam replied, not letting Jack answer, which would probably have been a wisecrack about Daniel being too drunk to know the difference. "Which is why I think we should help get him into bed."

"Fine. Suit yourself," was Jack's response.

With all three of them helping, they managed to get Daniel out of the chair and on the bed without jarring him too much, though he did stir a couple of times, muttering a few words in a language they weren't sure was English. It was Sam who took off Daniel's shoes and tucked him in. She brushed her fingers through his hair, smoothing the disheveled brown locks.

"'Night, Daniel. Sleep well," she murmured. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she added, "Thank you for coming back to us."

"No place else I'd rather be," the archeologist mumbled, barely understandable. He then gave a deep sigh and snuggled down under the covers. The slowing and deepening of his respiration told Sam that he was well and truly asleep now.

With a final smile, she exited the room, the smile lingering long after she'd left the house and was on her way home.


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Oh, God. Please just shoot me," Daniel begged, aching head cradled in his hands.

"Now, Daniel. You know I can't do that," Jack said reasonably. "Then I'd have to fill out all that paperwork. You know how I hate paperwork."

"If you really cared about me, you'd do it," the archeologist responded pathetically.

Jack smiled, glad that the archeologist wasn't looking at him. If Daniel saw the amusement that was on the colonel's face, he'd probably incinerate Jack where he stood. A sense of humor was not something Daniel possessed right now.

Jack fetched a glass of water and the pills Janet had given him and held them under Daniel's nose. "Here. Take these. They'll help."

"What are they?" the younger man asked suspiciously.

"What do you care? Maybe they're rat poison. That would save me the trouble and mess of shooting you."

Jack received a glare from Daniel that, fortunately, only _looked_ scorching. The linguist took the pills and downed them with the water. Then he slumped back in the seat.

"You act like you've never had a hangover before," Jack remarked.

"I haven't."

"Considering that it doesn't take a whole lot to make you tipsy, I find that hard to believe."

"I've had _little_ ones before, but nothing like this. I feel like my head is going to blow up in an explosion to rival the time we blew up that sun and that my stomach is turned inside-out." He paused. "And you're still talking too loudly."

"Daniel, if I talked any more softly, even dogs wouldn't be able to hear me," Jack told him, nevertheless pitching his voice even lower. "Exactly how many beers and glasses of champagne did you drink anyway?"

"Not all that many, or so I thought. I tried to drink as little as I could, even with all the glasses people kept giving me. Ferretti was the worst. It seemed like he was handing me a glass every time I turned around, insisting that I toast the stupidest of things. The last few glasses he gave me tasted a little funny, but I just figured that my tastebuds were getting messed up from all the alcohol."

Jack's gaze narrowed, a suspicion forming in his mind. "Funny, huh?" _'Ferretti, if you did what I think you did, you are dead meat,'_ Jack thought darkly. Aloud, he said, "Okay, Daniel. I think the best thing for you is to go back to bed. You'll feel much better later on."

"But I need to work today. There's a translation that--"

"Ah! First of all, it's New Year's Day, Daniel, a day that you're supposed to take off. Second, Janet said that you are to consider yourself on medical leave today."

"She did? When was that?"

"Oh, about five minutes after you passed out, I think."

Daniel groaned and sunk his head back into his hands. "I can't believe I got that drunk."

"Hey, it could have been a lot worse. At least you didn't make an idiot out of yourself in front of everyone."

Jack returned the empty water glass to the kitchen. "Well, I have to get going. You think you'll survive all on your own today?"

"If I don't die from terminal hangover, I'll be fine," Daniel answered with a sarcastic bite in his voice.

"Good. Go get some more sleep, Daniel. And you really should put something in your stomach. It'll help you feel better more quickly. Take that from someone who knows hangovers. There's some apple juice in the fridge, or make yourself some chicken soup. Both of those things work well for your . . . condition." He smiled fleetingly. "I'll be back before dinnertime." _'That is if I'm not cooling my heels in the brig after having strangled Ferretti,'_ he added silently.

"Wait a minute. Why are _you_ going to work. Aren't you supposed to be off today, too?"

Jack paused. "Um, yeah, well, Hammond kind of threatened to transfer me to kitchen duty if I didn't get the paperwork done that I've been putting off for the past few weeks."

If Daniel hadn't felt so horrible, he'd have smiled.

"I think that Carter's working today, too, something about gate diagnostics. You know, you two really need to learn to take advantage of your days off."

"Well, I guess I really don't have a choice this time, do I."

"Nope. See you tonight."

As soon as Jack had gotten to the base and changed out of his civvies, he went in search of the soon-to-be-deceased Lieutenant Colonel Louis Ferretti, whom he knew was also on duty today. Lou was heading for the commissary when Jack spotted him.

"Ferretti!" Jack snapped, causing the other man to jump at least two inches off the floor. The junior officer turned around.

"Hey, Jack," he said in a friendly tone.

"Don't 'Jack' me, Ferretti," Jack growled. "I want to know what you put in his drinks."

"Whose drinks?" Lou asked, acting innocent. Jack wasn't buying it.

"You know who. Daniel. What did you give him?"

Ferretti considered denying he gave Daniel anything, but, seeing the expression on Jack's face, he thought it might be unwise to lie to a superior officer.

"Nothing that would hurt him, Colonel. I just put a little bit of Southern Comfort in his champagne."

"Southern Comfort?!" Jack shouted, causing several people to stare at him. He lowered the volume of his voice, though it still contained a very noticeable growl in it. "You had _better_ tell me it was the seventy-six proof and not the really good stuff."

"Uhhh. . . ."

Jack exploded again. "Dammit, Ferretti, you _know_ that Daniel doesn't have a high tolerance for alcohol, and you give him Southern Comfort on top of all the beer and straight champagne he'd already had? You're lucky that you didn't put him in a coma!"

"Oh, come on, Ja. . . ." The glare from the other man made him change his form of address. "Colonel. Daniel didn't look all that drunk when I left. He was still on his feet and functioning."

"Which is a miracle now that I know what he drank. Ferretti, did you even once consider the possible ramifications of getting a man drunk who could have burned my house down with a stray thought?" The expression on the lieutenant colonel's face said he hadn't. "What if Daniel had gotten so plastered that he lost control of his abilities? Did that thought ever enter your idiot brain?"

"Sir, I'm sorry, I--"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Ferretti, not this time. What you did was totally irresponsible and could have had serious repercussions. Daniel's brain isn't like the rest of ours anymore. We don't know what large quantities of alcohol could do to him. For all we know, it could be dangerous for him."

Now Ferretti was looking worried. "He is all right, isn't he, sir?"

"I don't know. He was too sick to come into work today. He had a hangover from hell and pretty much looked like crap when I left him this morning."

"Sir, I'm really sorry," Ferretti said contritely. "I honestly thought there would be no harm. I was just having a bit of fun." He paused. "Are you going to report me to the general?"

Jack smiled nastily. "No, I'm not going to report you to Hammond. I'm going to do something much, much worse."

Uh oh. "What, sir?"

"I'm going to tell Daniel."

There was actual fear in Ferretti's eyes. "Sir, please. You can't tell him. There's no telling what he'll do to me."

Jack's smile became downright evil. "Yes, I know."

"He might remove body parts or burn all my hair off or-or-or. . . ."

"Hang you upside-down, stark naked in the women's locker room with a red bow around your waist?" Jack suggested. "That's what I'm going to recommend."

Ferretti let out a groan. "Isn't there anything I can do to persuade you not to tell him?"

Jack stared at the man. "Ferretti, are you offering a bribe to a superior officer?"

"No! I mean yes! I'd rather be sitting in the brig than face Daniel."

"Hmm. Let me think." Jack pretended to consider the offer for a while, then, "Nope. I can't think of anything I'd rather have than to see you get your just desserts dished up to you by Daniel. I'd recommend that you spend the day getting your affairs in order, Ferretti. Tomorrow, you will be meeting your doom."

With that, Jack turned and headed back down the hall, leaving a sweating lieutenant colonel in his wake. He didn't let his smile out until he'd reached his office. He was pretty steamed at Ferretti, and it had been quite satisfying seeing the man cower. So, would he really tell Daniel? Jack knew that the archeologist wouldn't actually hurt Ferretti. So did Lou, for that matter. But, oh, could Daniel heap loads of humiliation on the man. Thoughts of what Daniel did to Baal on that planet came into Jack's mind. Yes, maybe he _would_ suggest to Daniel that Ferretti would look good hanging upside-down and naked in the women's locker room. The bow would be optional.

Jack's smile disappeared as he thought about what he'd said to Ferretti. Most of it had just been a way to make the man think about the irresponsibility of his actions, but, now, Jack was beginning to wonder. Daniel's brain _was_ different now. Thor had said as much. Could that much alcohol really harm him?

Jack thought about how awful Daniel had looked, his pasty complexion and dark-rimmed eyes making him look like death warmed over. And Daniel was a man who had suffered through the utter agony of lethal radiation sickness with barely a sound of discomfort leaving his lips. For him to openly admit he was in pain meant that he must have been really hurting.

The more Jack thought about it, the more worried he got and the more he'd wished that he hadn't left Daniel alone. Maybe he should go see the doc and find out what she had to say.

Janet was not amused when she found out what Ferretti had done, and the look in her eyes promised that the man would not enjoy his next physical one little bit.

"I honestly don't know if we have reason for concern, Colonel," she admitted. "Outwardly, Daniel's brain is like yours and mine, but, as Thor explained, there are distinct differences. I am ashamed to admit that I didn't even consider that he might have an adverse reaction to large quantities of alcohol."

"Then you think I should go home and make sure he's all right?"

"That might be wise, sir. If there appears to be anything out of the ordinary about Daniel's condition, I think we need to get him to the infirmary."

"Right. I'll leave now."

Not bothering to stop and change out of his BDU's, Jack headed up the elevator. It just so happened that the car stopped on the way up to pick up Sam.

"Sir, what's wrong?" she asked as she got on the elevator, seeing the concern on his face.

Jack hastily explained things to her as he punched the button to close the doors and continued upward.

"I'm coming with you," Sam told him, her tone of voice brooking no argument.

They made the trip to Jack's house in silence. Once there, they headed for the bedroom upon failing to see the archeologist in the living room or kitchen. They found him in bed, his appearance not all that much better than when Jack had seen him last.

Jack bent over Daniel and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Daniel?" When he received no response, he gave the shoulder a little shake. "Daniel, wake up." Still nothing. Jack checked his friend's pulse and found it to be strong and steady, but pretty slow. He patted Daniel's cheek lightly. "Come on, Daniel. Wake up."

Jack was just starting to get really worried when the archeologist started awake. He blinked his eyes open and looked blearily up at Jack.

"Jack, what're you doing?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Making sure you were okay."

"Okay? Why wouldn't I be okay, that is except for this hangover?" Just then, he saw Sam. "What's going on?"

"The doctor was just worried that so much alcohol might do funny things to that cockeyed noggin of yours," Jack told him.

Daniel blinked a few more times, clearly still not running on all cylinders. "Huh?"

"We were worried that, considering the differences in your brain, the alcohol might have an adverse effect on you, Daniel," Sam explained.

"Oh. So you both decided to come over here and wake me out of a sound sleep?"

Sam gave him a sheepish look. "Sorry. But we really were worried about you."

"How come you weren't worried last night? Janet was here. She saw what condition I was in."

"Yeah, well, some . . . new information has come to light since then," Jack answered.

Finally fully awake, Daniel partially sat up and stared at his two teammates. "What new information?"

"Well, ya see, it turns out that beer and champagne wasn't all you were drinking last night."

"It wasn't? I don't remember. . . ." Realization dawned on his face. "Those glasses of champagne Ferretti gave me. They didn't taste funny just because my tastebuds were all screwed up, did they."

"Afraid not. They were spiked with something that had a bit more of a kick to it."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "And what was that?"

"Southern Comfort," Sam told him.

Daniel's volume rose a bit. "Southern Comfort? Isn't that like a hundred proof or something?"

"The kind that Ferretti gave you is," Jack confirmed.

"Ferretti," Daniel growled.

"Personally, I recommend something that involves leaving him naked someplace public," Jack told Daniel pleasantly. "And I'd like to say again that the bow you used on Baal was a very nice touch."

"Sir, are you suggesting that Daniel get revenge on Colonel Ferretti?" Sam asked, a little surprised. Ferretti and Colonel O'Neill went way back to the first Abydos mission.

"Why not? He deserves it. His actions were irresponsible and foolhardy, given what could have happened if Daniel got so drunk that he started doing things with his abilities. Not everyone at that party was involved in the program, after all. I'd be tempted to put this in Ferretti's permanent record, but I don't want it to hurt his career." Jack smiled. "Besides, I think it will be much more satisfying seeing Daniel dish out the punishment." He looked at the archeologist. "So, whatcha gonna do to him?"

"Who says I'm going to do _anything_ to him?" Daniel asked in response.

"Oh, come on, Daniel. You're not going to do anything at all?" Jack sounded extremely disappointed.

"Jack, it's not like he deliberately set out to harm me. He was just being stupid."

"Well, he had to know that you'd have one hell of a hangover in the morning. _That_ was deliberate."

"A hangover never killed anyone."

"Well, it _could_ have. Like I said, we didn't know how that much alcohol would affect that brain of yours."

"I'm sure that Ferretti didn't even think about that, just like he didn't think about what might have happened if I'd gotten too drunk to know not to do anything with my abilities in public."

"So, you're just going to forgive and forget? You didn't with _me_, for cryin' out loud!" Jack objected. "You painted my office pink! With big red hearts!"

"It was _Daniel_ who did that?" Sam asked, starting to grin. The smile instantly disappeared upon receiving a glare from Jack.

"You deserved it, Jack," Daniel told him. "I told you to stop what you were doing, and you kept doing it anyway. I wouldn't have done it if you'd just quit it when I asked you to."

Jack sighed. "Yeah, okay, so you got me there. I was being an ass," he admitted reluctantly. "But you know, I gotta say that this is a big disappointment, Daniel. I was looking forward to seeing Ferretti get his comeuppance."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Jack," Daniel said, not really sounding like he was. He laid back down. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going back to sleep."

As the colonel and the major reached the door, Daniel's voice brought them to a halt.

"Remember one thing, Jack," he said. "Sometimes, the _anticipation_ of punishment is worse than the punishment itself."

Thinking about what Daniel had said, Jack began to smile. "How right you are, Daniel. How right you are."

--------------------------------------------------

"All I can say, Ferretti, is that you are soooo dead," observed his second in command, the irritating smirk on his face not improving Lou's mood.

News of what the lieutenant colonel did to Daniel had gotten out, and, now, everybody was looking at him either like someone gazing sympathetically at a person who was terminally ill or with an expression not unlike what must have been on the faces of some of the commoners who watched with glee as a member of the aristocracy was led up to the guillotine during the French Revolution. Ferretti wasn't sure which expression was worse.

He spent all of yesterday kicking himself for being such an idiot and sweating over what Daniel would do to him. What had he been thinking?! You don't mess with a man who can barbeque supersoldiers, blow Goa'uld ships out of the sky like skeet shooting clay targets, and lift Stargates just by thinking about it! Dumb, dumb, dumb!

Despite what he had said to Jack, Ferretti knew that he was in no physical danger from Daniel. The archeologist would never harm him. Regardless of the power he now possessed, Daniel was still the same caring, compassionate man he'd always been. However, he was also imaginative and extremely intelligent and not above seeking payback if the other person was deserving of it. There was that whole incident with Emmett Bregman and "Casper", and what he did to Baal on Kreth showed what he was capable of when he got mad enough. Ferretti had no doubt that Daniel was seriously pissed at him. The hangover the archeologist woke up with was apparently an especially bad one, so bad that he was pretty much incapable of working. Ferretti pictured himself in Daniel's position and how _he'd_ feel about the person responsible, and he came to the inescapable conclusion that his goose was cooked.

The pitying looks Lou had received when he passed the checkpoints this morning almost made him turn around and run back home, but he knew that, sooner or later, he was going to have to face Daniel, and getting arrested for being AWOL wouldn't help matters any.

The real kicker, however, was when he learned that there was now a base-wide pool on what form his punishment would take and when it would happen. The odds were in favor of public nakedness being involved--with or without a bow.

Ferretti was presently in his office, trying to get some work done. Every little sound outside was making him jump, and each time he heard footsteps, his pulse began to climb.

_'This is ridiculous,'_ he berated himself. _'You are a lieutenant colonel in the United States Air Force. You've been in hundreds of life and death battle situations, and you're afraid of one lone archeologist?'_ His internal voice immediately reminded him of what that one lone archeologist was capable of doing. To Ferretti, even _it_ sounded awfully smug at the thought of his impending downfall.

"Hello, Ferretti," said a mildly pitched voice, a voice that caused every muscle in Lou's body to tense so much that, if it wasn't for the fact that he was still breathing, people might think he was in full rigor mortis.

Slowly, Lou Ferretti's eyes lifted to meet the piercing blue gaze of Doctor Daniel Jackson. The archeologist was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey, uh, Daniel," Ferretti greeted, trying to sound normal. He didn't think he'd succeeded.

"Quite the New Year's Eve party, wasn't it," Daniel said conversationally.

_'Oh, God. I'm dead,'_ Ferretti's mind responded. Aloud, he said, "Please, Daniel. Whatever you're going to do to me, please don't leave me naked somewhere."

The tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of Daniel's mouth. "Now, why would I leave you naked somewhere, Lou?" he asked, still using that mild tone, but the fact that he'd called Ferretti by his first name had the lieutenant colonel really worried.

"I mean, it couldn't be because a certain person spiked my champagne because they thought it would be funny to get me drunk, now would it?" Daniel continued, not the slightest bit of anger showing. That complete absence of visible anger had Ferretti's sweat glands working overtime. He almost wished that Daniel would start to rant and rave. It would be far preferable to that unnerving stare that was focused upon him with almost preternatural intensity.

"I'm sorry!" Ferretti abruptly blurted out. "I know it was stupid and a lousy thing to do to you. I swear I'll never do it again!"

"Oh, I know you won't, Lou," Daniel responded, the eerie calmness of his voice sounding to Ferretti's ears like a church bell chiming for a funeral.

With a little smile, Daniel straightened, turned and left. Ferretti's head sank into his hands.

"He's going to hang me naked from the Stargate. I just know it," he groaned.

Ferretti was still in that position when Colonel Bray came in a few moments later.

"Ah, I see that you're still alive," he said with a nasty grin.

Ferretti stared at him. "You look as pleased by my upcoming doom as everyone else does. I thought you didn't like Daniel."

"You're right, I didn't. I didn't think he belonged on an SG team, that civilians didn't belong in a military operation like the Stargate Program at all. But I was wrong, and he made me see that, even before I went on that mission and watched him command a thousand Jaffa like a four-star. Jackson is a damn good man who deserves all the respect we give General Hammond." Bray's tone changed. "Which is what makes me wonder what in the hell you were thinking when you deliberately got him drunk!"

"I _wasn't_ thinking, sir," Ferretti admitted in a meek voice. "It was a joke, a stupid joke."

"Stupid is right. I'd suggest that the next time you decide to play a joke on someone, you pick somebody who can't fry your ass."

"Yes, sir," Ferretti mumbled, wondering now if this was going to be a black mark on his service record because of the serious consequences that could have arisen due to what he did.

"You are such an idiot," Ferretti told himself aloud after Bray had left.

--------------------------------------------------

After leaving Ferretti, Daniel decided to drop in and say hi to Sam. As he entered her lab, she looked up from her work.

"Hi, Daniel." She studied his face. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better, though still not a hundred percent. Janet checked me out and said that I'm okay, although the fact that I have this many lingering symptoms tells her that these changes in my brain may have affected my ability to recover from the aftereffects of alcohol. Her advice was for me to stay away from the stuff as much as possible, which is fine with me. It's not like I really like beer all that much anyway. I mainly drink the stuff because of Jack. And, to be honest, just the thought of ever consuming anything even remotely alcoholic ever again is not a thought I choose to have at the moment."

Sam smiled at the comment. "So, the next time the colonel asks you to come over for beer and pizza, you'll have to just say no."

"To the beer. I don't think that pizza is deadly to me yet . . . well, except to my cholesterol levels."

A smile came to Sam's lips. "So, have you seen Ferretti yet?"

The corners of Daniel's mouth turned up in a slightly devilish expression. "Yes, I have. The campaign of terror has begun."

Sam laughed. "The campaign of terror?"

"Yep."

"What did you say you were going to do to him?"

"Not a thing. It's all in the way that I _didn't_ say it."

"Poor Ferretti. You're going to have him jumping at shadows and looking over his shoulder every five seconds, expecting the axe to fall at any moment."

"That's the whole idea."

"So, how long are you going to make him suffer?"

"Not long, maybe a few days, a week at the most. Any longer than that and he'll either come to the conclusion that I'm not going to do anything . . . or he'll have a nervous breakdown."

Sam snickered. "I have to say, Daniel, that this side of you is not one that I would have expected. The colonel, yes, but you, no. I mean, I've already seen it twice before, with Bregman and with Baal, and you apparently displayed it even earlier than that when you painted Colonel O'Neill's office pink. Where does this come from?"

Daniel sat on one of the stools. "Ah, you want to know what warped part of my brain thinks up this stuff? I can't really say. From what I remember, Mom and Dad were both pretty serious people, especially Dad, so it's not genetic."

"When's the first time you ever did something like this?"

"Well, I was a pretty shy and quiet kid growing up, and since I was a few grades ahead of everyone else my age during most of my schooling, I generally found myself in class with guys who were several years older than me. And older usually meant bigger, so playing a prank on some jerk in class was not advisable most of the time."

"But you thought about it?"

"On occasion," Daniel replied. "There was only one time that I followed through on my thoughts, however. The school bully at one of my junior high schools terrorized one of the younger boys so badly that he was terrified to even set foot on the school grounds. I considered all different ways of teaching that bully a lesson until I finally came up with what I believed was the perfect thing."

"What's that?"

"Well, I figured that, like a lot of school bullies, this guy was a coward at heart, and being mean and tough was a form of overcompensation. As it so happened, I knew a man who was a taxidermist, and I explained to him what was going on and what I wanted to do. Well, he liked the way I thought and gladly gave me one of the items out of his personal collection to use."

"What was it?" Sam asked, leaning forward in anticipation, her elbows on the worktable. She was enjoying hearing this little tale out of Daniel's childhood.

"An ocelot. It had been posed in a leaping position, with teeth and claws bared. The thing was pretty scary looking."

Sam smiled. "You know, I can't quite picture you being acquainted with a taxidermist, not considering what they do."

"My foster father knew him well. They were hunting buddies, and my foster dad sometimes used his services. I hated the whole idea of hunting animals just for trophies, but what was I going to say about it? I was just some foster child who was going to be in their lives only for a short while."

That statement made Sam a little sad, but she pushed the emotion aside. "So, what did you do with the ocelot?"

"I got to school really early and put it in Joel's locker. I tied a string to it and attached the string to the locker door so that, when it was opened, it would pull the ocelot out."

Sam chuckled. "Oh, boy. I can see what's coming."

Daniel smiled and nodded. "Joel comes to school, and, with dozens of other kids around, opens his locker. The next thing he knows, this thing with big teeth and claws is heading right for his face. Well, he let out a girlie scream that half the school heard and ran away down the hall several yards before the laughter stopped him. When he came back and saw that it wasn't a live monster that had attacked him, he was pretty mad and started spewing out threats, but the damage to his reputation had been done, especially since it was pretty obvious that he had, um, momentarily lost control of his bladder."

Sam burst into laughter. "Oh, that is priceless, Daniel! I'd have loved to see that!"

Daniel grinned at her. "Joel never lived it down. A lot of the kids who had been afraid of him before found their courage and started standing up to him. Since the incident also lost him the support of many of the guys who had helped him in his reign of terror, he was pretty much alone. He also lost respect from his teammates on the football team. His career as the school bully was over, just as I'd hoped it would be."

"And he never found out that it was you who did it?"

"No. He never even considered me as a suspect. I was the shy, quiet geek, after all, certainly not someone who would have the courage to do anything like that."

Sam smiled inwardly, thinking about how, even back then, people underestimated Daniel and the strength and courage he possessed. Just then, she had a thought. "How did you get in his locker? Didn't it have a lock on it?"

"I staked out the locker for several days and eventually managed to get the whole combination by peeking as he put it in. There are advantages to being invisible."

Sam frowned. "Invisible?"

"I was this meek, quiet little kid who rarely socialized with anyone in school and kept mostly to my books, Sam. In a room full of other kids, I was barely noticed most of the time."

"So, what changed?"

"Huh?"

"Daniel, nobody in their right mind would call you quiet or meek, and you're not little either."

"Oh." Daniel's mouth twisted into a half-wry expression. "I guess you could say that I came out of my shell in college. I was still younger than most of the other kids, but it didn't matter so much there, and being a bookworm wasn't quite such a source of derision since there are lots of those in college. I gradually learned to speak my mind and openly stand up for my point of view, though I was _never_ what you'd call submissive when it came to something that was important to me."

"I bet. There was probably more than one foster parent or teacher who had to deal with your stubborn streak," Sam said fondly, picturing this tiny blond child standing in defiance against something that he knew was wrong.

Daniel gave a shrug. "As for not being little anymore, that happened in college, too. I had a pretty big growth spurt during my freshman year, which kept on going through my sophomore year. By the time I hit eighteen, I was as tall or taller than most of the other guys, though I was still kind of skinny. The filling out didn't start happening until a few years later." He smiled a little. "So, that's the story of my first practical joke."

"That was great. Did you do stuff like that very often?" she asked.

"No, I seldom saw the need. I'm really not a practical joker under normal circumstances. Painting Jack's office was the first time I'd done anything like that in a very long time."

Another smile graced Sam's face. "I can't believe it was you who did that."

"Well, I was pretty ticked off at him, and it was the only thing I could think of to make him shut up and stop teasing me and embarrassing me by talking about my secret admirer to every person on base. And it definitely worked. He was so embarrassed by all the talk that was now going around the base about _him_ that he didn't even think about me."

Sam let out a giggle. "Remind me never to give you reason to do something like that to me."

"Don't worry, Sam. I can't imagine that ever happening," Daniel said with a smile. He got to his feet. "Well, I should get to my office. There's lots of work to do."

"Okay. Maybe we could have lunch together, someplace off-base. We almost never do that anymore."

Daniel's smile returned. "That would be great. Would noon work for you?"

"Perfect," Sam replied.

"Okay, I'll stop by here, then. See you."

* * *

**Author's Note:** The practical joke that Daniel played on the bully in school did not entirely come from my imagination. It was inspired by a joke that my father played upon a man he worked with, who was a notorious practical joker that Dad decided to get even with. Rather than a taxidermist, the stuffed cat (I don't know what type of cat it was) was borrowed from the props department at MGM Studios, which is where my father worked at the time. Also, his coworker's reaction wasn't quite so . . . embarrassing. I always enjoyed the story, and I hope you did, too.


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Daniel and Sam had just enjoyed lunch together at a café they both liked. Because of the lack of privacy, they had kept their talk to things not related to work. They were now slowly walking to Daniel's car, neither of them in any hurry to get back to the base.

"How have you been doing lately?" Sam asked, figuring that, out here in the parking lot, they could talk more freely.

"Okay, all things considered. Things seem to finally be settling down to what I can probably expect to be normal in my life now. The holidays were great . . . well, except for the hangover, that is."

Sam smiled fleetingly.

As they got to Daniel's car, he didn't unlock the door. Instead, he leaned against the vehicle, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes on the ground. "Sam, there's something I need to ask you, and I really need an honest answer."

Sam searched his face. "I'm always honest with you. You know that."

Daniel let out a soft sigh. He met her eyes. "Have I changed?"

Sam frowned. "Changed?"

"Yeah, as a person. I look at myself in the mirror each morning, and, though, physically, I appear the same, what I see is different."

"What do you mean?"

"All the things that have happened, gaining these abilities, the things I've done, I look back on it all, and I find myself thinking, 'My God, that can't be me.' Sometimes, it seems so surreal, like I'm looking through a quantum mirror at an alternate me in an alternate universe. And. . . ."

"What, Daniel?" Sam asked gently.

"And I'm not so sure I like the me that I'm looking at."

Surprised at the declaration, Sam didn't know what to say.

Daniel continued. "I've tried not to change, not to let these abilities change who I am, but, since getting them, I have done things that I'd never have thought I would do, made decisions that I know I'd never have made before all of this happened. I didn't want to see it at first. I kept insisting that I hadn't changed at all, that I was still the same person. Both Jack and Teal'c told me that I was different, and I still didn't want to believe it. But I can't deny it anymore. I'm not the same person I was before all this began. I know that some of the changes are good. I have more self-confidence than I did before. I have confidence in my ability to handle things that go down on missions. But then I think about stuff like what happened with Baal, and I know that, before I gained these abilities, I would never have seriously considered seeking retribution for what he did to Jack, even if I could have managed to do it."

Sam was silent for several seconds before speaking. "You're right, Daniel. You have changed. Yes, I've seen it, too. The thing is, though, that something like this, the abilities you've gained and all the things that have happened because of them, who _wouldn't_ be changed by it? You have been thrust into a situation and given a responsibility that is so big, so life-altering that you've had no choice _but_ to change. And the more your life has changed, the more you have had to learn to adapt, to . . . evolve. If you had gained these abilities and could have kept them a secret, never had to use them, I really think that a lot of the changes you see in yourself wouldn't have happened. It isn't so much the power itself that's changed you, Daniel, it's all the stuff that has happened _because_ of that power and the huge responsibility that has been placed upon your shoulders as a result of it."

Sam studied her friend's face, which was once again turned away from her. "Daniel, do you still wish that you'd never gained these abilities?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "My life was a whole hell of a lot less complicated without them. But then I think about the ways that I've been able to help with them, the lives that I've saved. Janet would be dead if it weren't for them. I'm certain of it. And I don't know how many people at the Alpha Site would now be dead if I hadn't been able to do what I did. Then there's SG-3, the people that I helped rescue from the volcano, you and Teal'c. For all I know, all of SG-1 might be dead. I don't know how history would have played out if I hadn't gained these abilities, what would and would not have happened, but I do know that I have saved some lives, and that is more important than the problems and complications that have been added to my life." Daniel finally looked at her. "I once talked to you about predicting solar flares so that we could go back in time and change things so that none of this happened."

"I remember."

"I wouldn't wish for that now."

Sam gave him a warm smile. "You want to know something, Daniel? What you just said, it proves that you _are_ still the same person inside. The Daniel I know, the one I have _always_ known, puts the welfare and concerns of other people ahead of his own. No matter what life has thrown at you, no matter how badly it's kicked you in the teeth, that has never changed, and it never will. Do you want me to tell you what changes I _have_ seen in you?"

Daniel gave her a nod.

"Both good and bad?"

The archeologist's eyes stayed on hers. "Yes."

"Okay. You have always been a strong person, one of the strongest I have ever known, but in these months, you have become even stronger in some ways. Your defiance against things you don't agree with or things that you don't want to do is even stronger, though I'd never have thought that could be possible."

"Ah, so I'm an even bigger pain in the ass than I was before," Daniel remarked with a little smile playing around his lips.

Sam smiled. "Yep, I'd say so. I know that the colonel would wholeheartedly agree."

"Oh, you can say that again."

"Of course, this ties directly into the Daniel Jackson Stubbornness Scale."

Daniel's eyebrows lifted. "The Daniel Jackson Stubbornness Scale?"

"Yes, a calculation I've worked out over the years that takes into account all of the variables of 'who', 'why', 'what', 'where' and 'when'." Sam counted off the "variables" with her fingers. "In regards to the 'who' variable, people like General Hammond resulted in a relatively low reading on the scale. You might have disagreed with their decision and expressed your disagreement, even argued about it, but, if they insisted on a course of action, you ultimately accepted it, regardless of how much you may have hated it. On the opposite end of the scale were people like Colonel O'Neill, whom I think you argue with just to stay in practice." She smiled to let him know she was kidding. "With the colonel, if you were positive that you were right and he was wrong, you'd ignore what he said and go do things your way, regardless of how much trouble you'd get in later. And then there were the bad guys, where the stubbornness would go right _off_ the scale. It didn't matter how much they threatened or tortured you, you wouldn't give into them. Only when the lives of innocents were threatened would that ever change. But this is the way it _used_ to be, not the way it is now. I've found it necessary to rework the math and come up with a new calculation."

Daniel's lips quirked in amusement. "So sorry."

Sam shrugged. "Hey, I'm an astrophysicist. I'm used to having to figure in new data."

"So, what's the new calculation?"

"Well, while the 'why', 'what', 'where' and 'when' variables still affect the outcome, the 'who' variable doesn't anymore. If you strongly believe that a certain course of action is the right one to take, you'll do it regardless of who opposes you. Now, who it is that's telling you to do or not do something does still affect the way the stubbornness manifests itself, but, regardless of how polite or respectful you are, it all amounts to the same in the end."

"I do what I think should be done and to hell with what everyone else tells me to do?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it _quite_ that way, but, yeah, basically."

Daniel chuckled, which made Sam laugh as well.

"This should make Jack happy," the archeologist remarked.

"Why do you say that?"

"He no longer has a reason to feel that I specifically target him with my insubordination."

Sam grinned. "Yes, that is a plus."

After a moment, Daniel became serious. "What else?"

"What else?"

Daniel looked at Sam. "I know there's more."

Sam gave a small nod, also growing serious. "I'd say that one of the biggest things, one of the ways you've changed the most, is your willingness and ability to step in and take charge, to take command of a situation, including military operations. I read everyone's report on the mission to rescue me and Teal'c, Daniel, and I was totally amazed. But, more than that, I was really, really proud of what you did, how you handled that mission. I don't think that the Daniel of seven, eight months ago could have done it. It's another way in which you've become stronger."

There was a long pause. "But you are right about something else you said. Along with your ability to take command of a situation, you've found the capacity to do other things that you wouldn't have done before, things that you wouldn't have even considered doing." Sam paused again. "I think that . . . that all the things that have happened, all the things you've had to do, have . . . hardened you a little more. But I believe that it was necessary. You needed to be a bit harder, a little more forceful, someone who could make all the tough decisions without flinching. With the kind of power you now have and the added responsibility it's placed upon you, you can't be someone who backs away from doing the unpleasant things that people in our line of work sometimes have to do. You don't have that luxury."

Daniel was no longer looking at her, his gaze cast downward yet again.

Sam reached out and touched his arm. "The thing is, though, that I believe these changes I've seen in you are a natural progression. Right from the start, from the day I first met you, you have been changing, Daniel, growing and maturing." Sam smiled fondly. "I remember how you were those first few months on the team."

Daniel smiled a little, too, though he didn't look at her. "A naive geek who didn't know when to duck?"

Sam's smile grew. "Well, maybe a little naive about some things, and you did have a tendency to pop up and try to make friends when you really should have stayed hidden instead, like that first time we went to Chulak."

Daniel made a face. "I remember. I was an idiot. I'm lucky that those Jaffa priests weren't the shoot first and torture you later type and that they mistook me for a god when I told them we came through the Stargate." He glanced at her. "So, what about the geek part?"

Sam shook her head. "I never thought of you as a geek, not in the bad way that the word is used, like what that jerk at O'Malley's meant when he called you that."

Daniel remembered the incident. He still winced when he thought about how the Atanik armband he was wearing at the time made him react to the insult. He always wondered if that guy still thought he was a geek after he'd finished tossing the jerk around.

"You've changed a lot in these years, Daniel," Sam continued. "You've learned how to handle yourself in battle, how to temper your enthusiasm with restraint, how to control your impulsiveness," Sam smiled fleetingly, "well, mostly, that is. Like I said before, you've matured a lot. I think that what's happening now is just the next step in the changes that have already been going on all these years that you've been with the program."

Sam took her friend's hand. "But there is something that you need to understand, Daniel. In all the best ways, the things that make you such a good person, you have _not_ changed. All the compassion, and integrity, and selflessness is still right there. Your moral principles are as rock solid as ever." Sam paused. "And I am still proud to call you my friend."

Daniel turned eyes upon her that were filled with emotion. She pulled him into a hug, and he held onto her tightly for a long moment. She gave him a smile as they drew apart.

"So, the next time you look in a mirror, see yourself the way I do, because I like the man that I see when I look at you. Okay?"

Daniel gave her a smile that was full of gratitude. "Okay," he responded softly.

"Good. Now, come on. We'd better get back to the SGC before they send the marines out to find us."

They got in the car and pulled out of the parking lot. They'd been on the road for about five minutes when Daniel spoke.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Any time, Daniel."

--------------------------------------------------

By the end of the day, what had been left of Daniel's hangover was pretty well gone, and a final quick checkup from Janet confirmed this.

The next day, the archeologist felt like his old self again and dove into work. It was about one o'clock and he was getting ready to break off for lunch when he felt Sam's presence approaching. He smiled at her when she came in.

"Let me guess. You're here to drag me off to lunch."

Sam smiled. "How'd you guess? Although I hope I won't have to actually _drag_ you. You're too heavy."

Daniel smiled back at her. "Don't worry. I'll come willingly."

At that moment, the klaxons sounded, followed by the announcement of an unscheduled off-world activation.

"I guess we'd better check that out," Daniel said, standing.

The two of them headed to the control room. When they got there, it was to discover that there had been an accident with SG-13. A section of the floor gave way in the ruins they were investigating, and Doctor Balinsky had fallen about fifteen feet. He was unconscious with a head wound and a broken leg. His teammates had not moved him for fear of other injuries. A medical team was quickly sent through to examine the archeologist and bring him back.

Daniel stayed in the control room, anxiously awaiting their return. As a fellow archeologist, Cameron Balinsky wasn't just a member of Daniel's staff, he was also a friend. Sam had chosen to stay as well, though Daniel had told her it wasn't necessary. She had just smiled and said it was for moral support. The linguist got still more moral support when Jack arrived and stayed as well.

Finally, SG-13 and the medical team returned, an unconscious Balinsky on a stretcher being carried by two of his teammates. Daniel immediately went down to the gate room, followed by Sam, Jack and Hammond.

"How is he?" Daniel asked.

"He's got a closed fracture of the right tibia, for one thing," one of the medics answered. "As for the head injury, we won't know much until we get some x-rays and a CT scan, although his pupillary reaction is good, and he's not showing any physical signs of brain damage."

Just then, Balinsky began to rouse. He cried out from the pain in his leg.

"It's okay, Cameron," Daniel said soothingly, gently grasping his friend's shoulder. "You're back at the SGC."

The man's eyes focused on him. "Daniel? Daniel, the ruins. They were built by the Ancients. We need to go back there. . . ."

Daniel tightened his grip on Balinsky's shoulder a little. "Take it easy, Cameron. You're not going anywhere right now, except to the infirmary, so just relax."

The injured archeologist was loaded onto the waiting gurney.

"I'm going to go with them," Daniel told Hammond and the others.

"Of course, Doctor Jackson," the general said, understanding his desire to stay at the side of his fellow archeologist and staff member.

All the way up to the infirmary, Balinsky kept insisting that they needed to go back to the ruins. It was obvious that he had a concussion, and he wasn't making a whole lot of sense part of the time, but Daniel got the impression that Balinsky believed the ruins might hold the key to the location of the Lost City, perhaps might even be the Lost City.

Daniel stayed in the infirmary as Janet and her people treated Balinsky. He was joined after a while by Jack, Sam and Teal'c.

"How's he doing?" Jack asked him.

"I don't know yet. Janet's still with him. Where's the rest of SG-13?"

"Getting their post-mission checkups." Jack pointed over at another area of the infirmary. Daniel glanced over there and saw the three men, who all had concerned expressions on their faces, even the normally sour-faced Dixon.

"Dixon said that Balinsky was really excited about the ruins, saying he found references to a hidden chamber that held something of great importance to the Ancients," Jack told him.

After their physicals, the three members of SG-13 joined SG-1 to await news on Balinsky. A short while later, Janet came over.

"How is he?" Daniel asked.

"Well, besides the fractured tibia, he's got a pretty nasty concussion and a whole lot of scrapes and bruises, but he's going to be all right," the doctor replied.

Daniel relaxed, as did all of Balinsky's teammates.

"Should have known that Balinsky's head would be too hard to do much damage to," Dixon said, the tiniest note of fondness in his voice, though nobody except someone who really knew him would have heard it.

Janet gave them all a stern look. "He's asleep now, and I want him to stay that way, so no visitors for a while."

"Yes, ma'am," said Bosworth.

When SG-13 went to their mission debriefing, SG-1 was there as well. Hammond had only requested Daniel's presence, but the rest of SG-1 decided to sit in, too. The archeologist asked several pertinent questions of SG-13, his excitement growing at the answers he received.

Once they were finished giving their report, Hammond dismissed SG-13. He turned to Daniel. "So, what do you think, Doctor Jackson?"

"Well, there's no way for me to say one way or the other if the ruins are the Lost City, not without going there, but I really do think that we need to check them out more thoroughly. Even if it isn't the Lost City, we might gain some valuable information."

Hammond nodded sharply. "All right, you have a go to return to the planet tomorrow at 0800."

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning, SG-1 went to M3H-827 to check out the ruins. In reading the text about the hidden chamber, Daniel discovered that it was actually some kind of treasure room, not the hoped for cache of Ancient weapons that supposedly existed in the Lost City. He also learned that the Ancients hadn't been the only race living on that planet. They shared it with another race that, as it turned out, had an odd view on thievery, it being considered a form of competition rather than a crime, the best thief being the winner, as Jack put it. At the time that the chamber was built, this other race was living with the Ancients because some kind of natural disaster had wiped out their own city. When things started coming up missing, the Ancients knew who was to blame, but, no matter how much they tried to explain that thievery was not acceptable to them, it didn't do any good. Therefore, they built a hidden chamber in which to keep their most valuable possessions, things of great cultural and historic significance. Eventually, the other race rebuilt their city and moved out of the Ancients' city, but the Ancients decided to keep the chamber as a sort of museum or showplace.

Though it was pretty unlikely that any weapons or other technology would be found there, SG-1 went to where Daniel had determined the chamber to be. What they found there transported the archeologist into seventh heaven. The place was full of exquisite artifacts and all manner of artwork, including statuary, vases, carvings in stone, and what, at one time, must have been paintings on cloth, but had long since deteriorated into dust. Having been protected from the elements, most of the items were in perfect condition, and Daniel was acting like a kid in a candy store, much to the amusement of his three teammates.

It took two days for Daniel to get video footage of the entire chamber, then for all of the objects to be carefully removed and taken back to the SGC. The archeologist insisted on overseeing the entire process personally. Once all of the stuff was at the base, he and his staff got busy on the huge job of cataloging everything.

And so it was that the days passed with Daniel spending long hours at the SGC. Only Janet's threats to slip a sedative into his food kept him from staying there all night on half the days. Despite being so busy, the archeologist was sure to keep the fear alive in Ferretti. He made a point of visiting the man almost every day, making vague comments about having unfinished business, smiling in such a way that Ferretti nearly broke out in a sweat every time he saw it.

After several days of this, however, the lieutenant colonel began to wonder if Daniel really was going to do anything to him or was just toying with him.

It was now twelve days since the New Year's Eve party, ten days since Daniel's first 'confrontation' with Ferretti, and the airman had come to the conclusion that he was safe, that the archeologist had chosen not to get back at him for what he did. He hadn't seen Daniel at all yesterday or the day before. Of course, he knew that the linguist was very busy with all the stuff they'd found in that hidden chamber, but he also hoped it meant that the younger man had decided to let bygones be bygones.

With a relaxed smile, Ferretti opened the door to his office and stepped inside. A second later, there was a loud clatter, and he found himself drenched from head to toe. Letting out a cry of surprise, he wiped away the wetness from his eyes and looked down at himself. To his horror, he discovered that he was covered in pink paint. He looked up and saw that a large pail had been placed above the door and rigged to tip over when the door was opened. It hung dangling above him, paint still dripping from it and onto him.

Daniel. It had to be Daniel. There was no other explanation. The archeologist had gotten his revenge, and in a manner than Ferretti would never have foreseen. Well, at least it wasn't as bad as being hung naked from the Stargate.

Ferretti's happiness at escaping public nakedness died abruptly when it dawned on him that, in order to get this paint off, he'd have to make the trip through the base to the showers, and there was no way that he'd make it that far without a whole lot of people seeing him. He looked at himself again, realizing what he'd look like to others and how big a source of amusement he'd be. He could hear the talk already.

"Hey, I think I won the pool!"

No, that hadn't been his imagination. Ferretti turned around to see two marines looking at him, grinning like idiots.

"What time is it, Mike?" asked one of them, the same one who'd spoken before.

The other looked at his watch. "0738."

"Yes! I guessed today at 1000 hours. There is no way that anyone was closer than that."

"Yeah, but you guessed the wrong way Doctor Jackson would get his revenge."

"True, true, but I don't think _anyone_ got that right." He looked Ferretti up and down, smirking. "I have to admit that, though it's kind of lacking in imagination, it's definitely effective."

"Have fun getting that paint off, Ferretti," the other man said. "You'd better hope he didn't use an oil-based paint."

Laughing uproariously, the two men continued on their way.

Grumbling under his breath, Ferretti slammed the door to his office shut. He turned around and scanned the corridor. He'd made the trip to the men's locker room hundreds of times in the past, yet this was the first time that it had ever seemed so far away.

Deciding that it would be less embarrassing to meet people in the stairwell than on the elevator, Ferretti headed for the stairs, bracing himself for what he knew was going to come.

--------------------------------------------------

Jack strolled down the corridor, heading for his office. He'd just had breakfast with Daniel, and the archeologist had been in an especially good mood for some reason, even though Jack had reason to believe that Daniel had been on base all night. Upon asking him why he was so chipper, Daniel had merely smiled and said that Jack would probably find out in time.

The sight of something on the floor made Jack stop in his tracks. He stepped forward and looked down at it, reaching down to touch it.

"Pink paint?" he muttered questioningly. Straightening, Jack now noticed that there was a trail of pink droplets and splatters going up the hallway--and that wasn't all. Amidst the splatters and drops was something else that was clearly identifiable: pink footprints bearing the recognizable tread of a military issue boot.

A slow smile crept across Jack's face as he realized why Daniel had been so chipper this morning. This was something he just _had_ to see.

Like a dog on a scent, Jack tracked the evidence of his quarry's passage through the halls of the SGC. He followed them down the stairs, knowing now where they were heading.

Jack was almost to the locker room when the footprints stopped. In their place was a pair of pink boots. Jack's eyes traveled up the matching pair of pink legs to the pink body and, finally, the dripping pink face.

"Hello, Ferretti," he said, smirking.

"Colonel," Ferretti responded miserably.

"Seen Daniel this morning?" Jack's smirk grew bigger.

"This isn't funny, Jack," Ferretti whined. "Do you have any idea how many people are running around this time of morning? Dozens and dozens and dozens, and I think that every one of them was there to see me. I swear that he must have sent out a memo to everybody, telling them to go take a look."

"I don't recall seeing a memo in my inbox," Jack mused. "Oh, that's right. I haven't checked my email yet this morning."

Ferretti made a low growling sound.

"Hey, cheer up. It could have been worse," Jack told him. "For one thing, he could have painted your office pink, too."

Ferretti's eyes widened slightly, a look of dread on his face. "I didn't even look at my office. Once the paint hit me, that's all I could think about."

Jack tsk tsked, his head shaking. He leaned forward and said into Ferretti's ear, "If I were you, I'd get busy on putting in a requisition for paint right away and start praying that you don't have to wait two days like I did." He patted Ferretti on the shoulder, then, grimacing, took out his handkerchief to wipe off the paint from his hand.

"Yep. Cotton candy pink. How well I know that color. Hmm. I wonder if he did the big red hearts, too."

With a snort of laughter, Jack turned and left a miserable Ferretti standing in the hallway to the locker room.

It was an hour later when a cry was heard traveling down the corridors of the level that contained the offices of the senior military personnel.

"Oh, no! Not polka dots!"


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Despite Ferretti's suspicions, it turned out that Daniel had not sent a memo to everyone. Even so, by the end of the day, there wasn't a soul on base who didn't know what had happened, and it seemed to the poor lieutenant colonel that at least half of them had taken the time to seek him out just to make some kind of wisecrack or to look at the interior decorating job Daniel had done on his office. 

It was nearly five when the cause of Ferretti's misery came to his office. 

"Hey, Ferretti. I see you managed to wash the paint off," Daniel said in a friendly tone. 

"You are a cruel, cruel man, Daniel," the airman groused. 

Daniel smiled slightly. "No, if I was a cruel man, I'd have used oil-based paint." His smile grew. "I didn't want anyone to have to take the time and effort to go get several gallons of paint thinner." 

Ferretti failed to appreciate the small kindness, at least at first. Then he got an image of himself being pink for several days as he waited for the paint he couldn't get off to finally wear off. Looked at that way, the fact that Daniel had used latex paint, which comes off with soap and water, really had been an act of kindness. 

"Yeah, okay, so it could have been worse," Ferretti admitted grouchily. Then his tone rose again. "But did you have to paint my walls and ceiling with pink polka dots?! You _know_ how I hate polka dots! I swear I'm going insane looking at them." 

With another smile, Daniel stepped over to a wall. He picked at the edge of one of the dots, and, to Ferretti's great surprise, peeled it right off. 

"It's not paint, Ferretti," Daniel explained. "They're stickers." 

"Stickers?" 

"Uh huh." 

Ferretti was silent for a long moment. "You could have done a whole lot worse to me, couldn't you." 

"Yep." 

"I probably don't want to think of all the things you imagined doing." 

"Oh, they weren't so bad, not really, nothing involving nakedness." 

Ferretti sighed, the last of his anger dissipating. "I'm really sorry for what I did, Daniel," he said, his voice ringing with sincerity. "No hard feelings?" 

"No hard feelings. I want to ask you something, though. Why did you do it? Was it really just because you decided to pick me to play a joke on, and you thought getting me drunk would be funny?" 

"No. I mean, yes, I thought getting you drunk would be funny. . . ." 

"But?" 

"But. . . ." Ferretti met his eyes. "We missed you around here, Daniel, during that year you were gone. And Jack. . . ." Ferretti shook his head. "He put on a good act. Most people wouldn't have seen past it. But I know him better than most people, and, every now and then, I saw the mask slip and reveal how much he was hurting inside." He met Daniel's eyes. "And I was the one who went to his house on Christmas Day and found him smashed out of his gourd on a bottle of Jack Daniels. Jack laughed at the irony of the name. Jack Daniels. Jack and Daniel. He said that there hadn't been very much 'Jack and Daniel' toward the end. And then he cried. I never thought that I'd see that man cry, and I never want to again." 

Tears had welled up in Daniel's eyes, his throat aching. He wasn't sure he wanted to know this. 

"He never said a word about it later," Ferretti continued. "I don't even know if he remembered any of it. I know this isn't something that us strong, he-men military types are supposed to talk about, but he loves you, Daniel. You're more than his best friend, you're like his brother, his family." 

"I know," Daniel said in a slightly hoarse voice. 

"It was really great having you there at the Christmas and New Year's Eve parties, seeing Jack and everyone else that happy. I know it's an idiotic and asinine excuse for why I decided to have some fun with you and get you drunk, but there you have it." 

Daniel was quiet for a long moment. "Thanks for telling me." 

Ferretti gave a single nod. "Please don't tell Jack that I told you about the . . . you know. He'd do something really awful to me if he found out." 

The archeologist smiled. "Don't worry. It'll be our secret." 

"Thanks. You're a good man, Daniel. A wicked sense of humor, but a good man all the same." 

It ended up taking eight days to do the bulk of the cataloging of the artifacts from M3H-827. There were still some pieces yet to do, but Daniel's other work finally had to take precedence, and he left the remainder of the job in the capable hands of his staff, one of whom was Cameron Balinsky, who didn't let the cast on his lower leg keep him out of the "action", despite Janet's disapproval. 

Daniel was able to focus his attention on his other work for only a few days since SG-1 had yet another mission. Fortunately, it turned out to be routine, lasting only a day and a half. Considering the pile of work on his desk waiting to be done, Daniel was especially happy about that. 

After the debriefing, Daniel got to work right away on the mission report, wanting to get it out of the way as soon as possible. Once it was finished, he decided to get some more work done on the mound of projects that had piled up while he was busy cataloging the artifacts, though it was already getting kind of late. Figuring that he'd just spend a couple of hours on it, he got started. 

Sometime later, Daniel squinted with tired eyes at the clock and realized with surprise that it was going on 5 a.m. Where had the time gone? Well, so much for only working for a couple of hours. 

At that moment, a huge yawn snuck up on him. Deciding that he should get at least a couple of hours' sleep, he laid down on the couch in his office. Moments later, he was asleep. It was a while after that that the dream came. In a march of images, sounds, feelings and impressions, Daniel watched the future unfold before his mind's eye, a future that awakened him with a start. 

Daniel sat up, his mind going over what he'd just seen. He looked at the clock, seeing that it was almost seven. The archeologist knew what he had to do. There was no doubt in his mind. He had to try to stop what he'd seen from coming true. 

Daniel went to the locker room and took a long, very hot shower to clear his head fully. He had breakfast in the commissary, but didn't really taste the food he was eating, his mind too focused on what he was going to do. Back in his office, he made reservations for a flight out, finding a seat on the one o'clock flight, which would arrive at its destination shortly after eight. Considering that he was making same-day reservations, he knew that he was lucky to have gotten that flight. 

Glancing at the clock, Daniel did some quick mental math on when he'd have to leave to get to the Denver airport on time and realized that he didn't have a great deal of time to spare. 

The linguist knew that he couldn't just take off without telling anyone. He had to at least inform General Hammond that he was leaving and would be gone for a couple of days. Daniel didn't know what he was going to do about Jack. If he told the colonel that he had to go out of town, there was no way that he'd be able to get out of the mountain without Jack demanding to know where he was going, and if he told Jack that, the man would insist on going, too, and that was something Daniel couldn't allow. He had to deal with this in his own way, and Jack would just cause problems. So, Daniel would have to get off the base without Jack knowing, which wouldn't be all that difficult unless he was unlucky enough to run into Jack on the way out. 

Daniel headed to Hammond's office, composing in his head what he was going to say. 

"Sir, I need to talk to you," he said when he arrived. 

"Certainly. Come in." 

Daniel closed the door and sat on one of the chairs. "Something has come up, and I have to leaving town immediately. I'll only be gone a couple of days." 

General Hammond looked at him sharply. "Is this something serious?" 

"Yes, sir, it is." 

Hammond's gaze grew even sharper. "I get the suspicion that this is not a trip for personal reasons." 

Daniel hesitated before replying. "No, I'm afraid it isn't." 

"I also get the feeling that, if I asked you to explain, you'd tell me that you can't." 

"Yes, that's, um, pretty much what I'd say, sir. I'm sorry." 

"I see." There was a pause. "There are two things that I have to know, then. The first is if you will be putting yourself in any kind of danger." 

Daniel shook his head. "No, sir. I'll be perfectly safe." 

"That's good. The second thing is if what you are intending to do could compromise the Stargate Program in any way." 

"No, it won't compromise the program. I'm hoping that it will do just the opposite." 

"The opposite?" 

"Yes, sir. Please don't ask me to explain further. All I can tell you is that I have to try to stop something from happening that will greatly affect the SGC and maybe the whole planet." 

Hammond studied his features for a long moment, then gave a nod. "Very well, Doctor Jackson. I've learned that only a fool would fail to trust you when it comes to situations like this." 

"Thank you, sir. Um, there is one thing." 

"Yes?" 

"I can't let Jack know that I'm leaving since he'll insist on going with me, and that would cause all kinds of problems." 

"And you want me to run interference, keep him busy until after you're gone." 

"Uh, yes, sir." 

"All right. I'm sure I can think of something to keep him tied up with for a while. How much time do you need?" 

Daniel looked at his watch again. "I'll be leaving here in about half an hour. I have to go home and pack, then I'll be on my way to the airport. I'll probably leave my cell phone off for the rest of the day since, by the time I get to my destination, it will be night, and I really don't want to have to deal with Jack tonight." 

"So, a couple of hours?" 

"Yes, sir, that should do it." 

"Very well." 

Daniel rose to his feet and headed for the door. 

"Whatever it is that you're going to do, I wish you good luck and Godspeed," Hammond said. 

"Thank you, General. I just might need it." Daniel reached for the door handle, then paused. He turned back to Hammond. "Sir, there is one other thing I think I might need." 

Sam hit the down button for the elevator. When the doors opened, she was surprised to see Daniel in the car, dressed in civilian clothing. 

"You're just arriving?" she asked as she got on. 

"No." He hit the button for the eleventh floor, the highest floor that this elevator would go to. "Actually, I'm just leaving." 

"Leaving? Leaving where?" Just then, Sam noticed his clothing. "Isn't that what you were wearing yesterday?" 

"Yes, I've been here all night." 

Sam shook her head. "Daniel, you really need to stop doing that." She gave him a smile. "You're worse than I am." 

"Yeah, I guess I am," Daniel said. 

There was something off in Daniel's tone of voice, a forced quality to the lightness that shouldn't have been there. 

"Something's wrong," Sam immediately surmised. 

Daniel met her eyes. "Yeah. I have to go out of town for a couple of days." 

"Out of town? Where?" 

"I can't tell you, Sam." 

"Why not?" 

"Because you'll feel like you need to come with me, and, though it would be a lot better having you with me than Jack, I really need to do this alone." 

Sam's voice hardened. "Okay, Daniel, what's going on?" 

"I had another vision, Sam, and, now, I have to try and stop something from happening." 

"Daniel, this isn't another situation like with Kinsey, is it?" 

"No. I will be in absolutely no danger. I promise." 

The doors opened on the eleventh floor, and Daniel headed straight toward the elevator that would take him up to the ground floor. Sam's hand on his arm stopped him. 

"Daniel, I'm not going to insist that you tell me where you're going or what you're going to do. First of all, I'd be wasting my breath. Second, I know that I can trust that you're not lying to me about not being in danger." 

"I'm not, Sam. About the only danger I'd be in is if my flight crashes or my taxi gets into a wreck." 

"Okay. You'll be back on Friday?" 

"Yes." 

"And you'll tell us about this then?" 

"I don't know, Sam. I will if I can." 

"Okay." Sam scanned his eyes deeply. "Good luck." 

This time, she got a genuine smile from Daniel. "Thanks, and thanks for not pushing." 

"Well, I'm not the colonel. I know when not to push. Speaking of the colonel, if he finds out you're gone. . . ." 

"Don't worry. General Hammond's going to keep him busy until it's too late for him to do anything." 

Sam's eyebrows rose. "General Hammond? Then he knows where you're going?" 

"No, I couldn't tell him either, although he probably has a good idea." Daniel looked at his watch. "I really need to get going, Sam. I'll see you in a couple of days." 

Sam watched him sign out at the security desk, then get on the elevator going up. She then returned to the other elevator and headed back down, hoping that, whatever it was that Daniel was going to do, he would succeed, her instincts telling her that, if he failed, a whole lot would be changing for all of them. 

"Where the hell are you?!" 

Daniel jerked the cell phone away from his ear, the decibel level of Jack's voice as he continued to rant still clearly audible from two feet away. He was going on about having tried to call Daniel all night and demanding to know if Daniel ever listened to his voice mail. The truth was that the archeologist _had_ listened to his voice mail this morning and had already gotten an earful from the irate colonel. 

"Jack, please calm down," Daniel said into the phone when the other man finally fell silent. 

"Oh, I'm calm, Daniel, perfectly calm," the colonel said in an excessively mild voice. "Why shouldn't I be calm? A member of my team has suddenly run off to God knows where without telling a soul where he's gone. What is there not to be calm about?" 

By the end of the statement, the sarcasm was leaking through heavily, causing Daniel to sigh. "I'm sorry, Jack. I couldn't tell anyone where I was going or why." 

"And why is that, Daniel?" 

"Because, if you'd known, you'd have insisted on coming, and, quite frankly, Jack, you'd have been a major pain in the ass." 

That caused the colonel a moment's pause. "Daniel, you had better not be doing something like that stuff with Kinsey." 

"Don't worry, Jack. I won't be doing any sneaking around or anything else like that. This time, I'll be walking in the front door. Speaking of which, I'm getting ready to do that now, so I'll talk to you later." 

Daniel disconnected the call and turned off his phone, not wanting to take the chance that Jack or someone else would try to call him again. He looked at the structure before him. Taking a deep breath, he stepped toward the security gate, hoping that the man he'd come to see would allow him in. 

President Henry Hayes sat down and prepared himself to resume listening to the heated argument that had been going on for a good chunk of the morning, an argument about a program that, up until yesterday morning, he hadn't even known existed. Hayes hated the fact that he'd had only a day to familiarize himself with the Stargate Program and the people in charge of it before being thrust into the middle of this argument about the competence and character of the SGC's commander and premier off-world team. He had just called for a short break so that he could absorb what had been said and ended up getting into a confrontation with Vice President Kinsey, who was starting to piss Hayes off with his arrogance and holier than thou attitude. 

The first person to come back into the room was General Francis Maynard, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who had no sense of humor, but was a man of strong principles and fought for what he believed in. The general was a staunch supporter of General Hammond, the commander of Stargate Command, and the SGC's first-line team, SG-1. 

The next to enter were the two members on the opposing side, Vice President Robert Kinsey and Mister Richard Woolsey, both of whom were under the impression that Hammond and all of the members of SG-1 were dangerously incompetent, possibly mentally unstable, and should be booted out of the program. 

"All right, let's get back to business," Hayes said as the three men took seats. 

Woolsey was the first to resume. "According to the military, Stargate Command is our first and best line of defense against potential alien threats to this planet. If that's true, we should be very, very concerned. Time and again General Hammond and SG-1 have demonstrated shockingly poor judgment, placing themselves, the base, this very planet in jeopardy. The decision to bring back suspect technology through the gate has precipitated a number of crisis situations. For the most part, they've been dealt with within the confines of the SGC. However, last year, the effect of an alien device broke containment and found its way into the civilian population." 

He went on to describe the incident, one where several civilians witnessed alien creatures running around the countryside. 

"The situation was taken care of," Maynard responded. "A cover story was created, and the civilian population was none the wiser." 

"Well, I, for one, would like to know how many more times we're gonna have to clean up after these people," stated Kinsey. 

"They have a mandate to acquire off-world technology, and that entails necessary risks." 

"And how would you define 'necessary'?" Woolsey asked. "Only a few months ago, General Hammond allowed the testing of an unproven computer virus that infected and shut down our entire gate network, leaving us open to a potential planetary assault." 

"You can't hold Hammond responsible for that!" Maynard exclaimed. "It was a Goa'uld modification of the virus that caused the problem." 

"In other words, General Hammond effectively gave the Goa'uld a weapon to use against us." 

Maynard was going to respond, but was beaten to the punch by Kinsey. 

"And speaking of weapons, there is another one we should all be very, very worried about," the vice president said. "As greatly concerned as I am about General Hammond's ability to command the SGC and the many times that he and the members of SG-1 displayed poor judgment that could have resulted in serious repercussions to this planet, what concerns me even more is what is presently happening with Doctor Jackson." 

"You're talking about the psychic abilities he has developed," Maynard said, frowning. 

"Yes, abilities with a frightening potential for destruction." 

"Okay, I didn't get a chance to read all of the reports about this, but what I did read absolutely astounded me," Hayes said. "It is mind-boggling that any human being could have that much power." 

Kinsey leaned forward. "Mind-boggling is a very good word, Mister President. I have to wonder how mentally stable any individual who suddenly develops that kind of power can remain." 

"Well, he seems to be doing a damn fine job of handling it so far," Maynard stated. "He was personally responsible for capturing Osiris, has saved the lives of dozens of Stargate personnel with his abilities, defeated forces sent by Anubis to destroy the only weapon we have against them, saved hundreds of human lives on another planet that were threatened by a volcano, and, most recently, successfully commanded a force of four SG teams and a thousand Jaffa against a Goa'uld stronghold, capturing Baal in the process. The man is a hero whom we should all be thankful is on our side." 

"But how long will he remain on our side, and how long can we trust his judgment and mental state?" Woolsey asked. "In talking with Doctor Jackson, I developed deep concerns that these abilities of his have gone to his head, sending him on a kind of power trip. And I'm not the only one who feels that way." He pulled out a file folder. "This is the report on a psychological evaluation done on Doctor Jackson. The psychiatrist determined that he is skirting the edge of megalomania and should be committed to Mental Health for further evaluation and possibly drug therapy." 

"Let me see that." Maynard took the report. "This was written by Doctor MacKenzie." 

"Yes, who has served as the Head of Psychiatry for the Stargate Program almost since its inception." 

"_Did_ serve. As I'm sure you already know, Doctor MacKenzie was tossed out of the program nearly two months ago. He was subsequently discharged from his duties at the Mental Health facility of the Air Force Academy Hospital and will very likely be discharged from military service. A review board is presently considering revoking his license to practice psychiatry. The reason for all of that is this ridiculous report," Maynard waved the file, "and the disgraceful manner in which he conducted the psychological evaluation on Doctor Jackson. Two other experts in psychology determined that Doctor Jackson is in perfect mental heath and that Doctor MacKenzie, pardon my French, was full of crap. This report was never entered into Doctor Jackson's file, and I have to wonder how you got hold of it." 

"How I got it is not the issue here. What I have to wonder is if what happened to Doctor MacKenzie is evidence of certain individuals covering things up to make sure that Doctor Jackson remains at the SGC." 

Hayes stared at Woolsey. "Are you accusing General Hammond and others of tossing MacKenzie out, destroying his career, and making up a false psychological report so that they can keep Doctor Jackson where he is?" 

"I think it is _very_ possible. There is no doubt that a lot of high-ranking members of the military want to keep Jackson in the program. In fact, they very recently offered him command of his own team. He has become the Stargate Program's golden boy, a weapon they don't want to lose." 

"A weapon that could destroy us all," Kinsey added. "I cannot tell you how disturbed I am at the thought of any human being possessing that much power, particularly someone like Daniel Jackson." 

"What do you mean someone like Daniel Jackson?" Maynard asked. "The man's morality and integrity is without question." 

"I have to agree with that one, Bob," Hayes stated. "From what I saw in the reports I've read so far, the guy's been acting as a kind of moral watchdog for the program from day one. Some pretty big mistakes would have been made if not for him." 

"Oh, yes, he has set himself up as the voice of conscience for the Stargate Program, but how do we know what's really inside his mind and heart?" Kinsey asked with a sneer. "For one thing, he has repeatedly displayed a tendency to choose the welfare of aliens and alien cultures over that of Earth." 

"When is that?" Maynard asked angrily. "When he kept us from wrongfully imprisoning a peaceful group of aliens who had technology we wanted? When he tried to stop us from making a deal with a fanatical group of Nazi-like clones who had committed genocide? When he kept us from treating a race of highly intelligent beings like animals and forcing them off their homeworld so that we could get our hands on their Naquadah, a race that, because of his intervention and diplomatic skills, is now an ally?" 

"Yes, it all looks pretty on paper if you choose to look at it that way," Kinsey responded, "but the fact remains that Daniel Jackson is dangerous, a threat to this nation, possibly to this planet. There is no telling when he may decide to try taking control." 

"Control of what, Bob?" Hayes asked, almost laughing. "The country? The planet? You act like he's the next Hitler." 

"Oh, he is far, far more dangerous than Hitler could ever have dreamed of being." 

A knock on the door halted the conversation. Hayes called for the person to enter. The Chief of Staff stepped into the room. 

"I apologize for disturbing you, Mister President, but there is someone who is asking to see you, and he's pretty insistent. He doesn't have an appointment. He says his name is Doctor Daniel Jackson." 

Hayes' eyebrows rose. "Well, speak of the devil." 

"Don't let him in, Mister President," Kinsey said quickly. "It's too dangerous. You don't know what he might be planning." 

Ignoring him, Hayes looked at his Chief of Staff. "Did Doctor Jackson say why he wants to speak to me?" 

"Well, sir, that's the strange part. He said that he is aware of what is going on and thought that you might like to hear a more logical point of view than that of Mister Woolsey and the vice president." 

"You hear that? You hear what he said? He knows what we've been saying. This power of his is unnatural!" Kinsey hissed. 

"Please step out for a moment, Stan," Hayes told the Chief of Staff, who immediately obeyed. 

"The man knows things he shouldn't," Kinsey continued more loudly. "No secret is safe from his unnatural power." 

Hayes stared at the vice president. "You act like you're afraid of him." 

"Yes. Yes, I am afraid. Jackson could kill us all with a mere thought. I'd be a fool not to be afraid." 

"Doctor Jackson would never for one moment consider doing anything like that," Maynard insisted. 

"How can we be sure of that? Mister President, you must _not_ let him in here!" 

Hayes' voice hardened. "I think that's my decision to make, Bob. I, for one, would like to know what he has to say." He called the Chief of Staff back in. "Tell the guards to let Doctor Jackson in. Have him escorted here." 

"Yes, sir." The man left. 

"You are making a terrible mistake, Mister President," Kinsey told him. 

"I have to agree that allowing Doctor Jackson to come in here may not be a wise course of action, sir," Woolsey said. 

Hayes stared at the man. "What, you think he's going to kill us all, too?" he asked in amusement. 

"No, sir, but I do believe that, if Doctor Jackson has found out what this meeting is about, he is here to attempt to sway your decision in favor of himself, the rest of his teammate and General Hammond." 

"Well, it doesn't hurt to hear what he has to say. Besides, I'm rather eager to meet a man who can do the things he can." 

Ignoring the expression on Kinsey's face, President Hayes sat back to await the arrival of the person who was, in a very literal way, the most powerful man on Earth. 


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

As everyone in the room waited for Daniel to arrive, Kinsey became increasingly nervous. He had gotten to his feet and was pacing the room. From what the others could see, he was actually sweating. Hayes had to wonder why the vice president was so terrified of Daniel Jackson. What was the reason for this fear?

At last, the door opened, and President Hayes got his first real look at Doctor Daniel Jackson. On the outside, the man looked nothing at all like what you'd expect someone with that kind of power to look. He was nicely dressed in a grey suit, pale blue shirt and dark blue tie. His brown hair was neatly combed, bright, intelligent blue eyes framed by a pair of attractive, wire-rimmed glasses. He had a handsome face that was strong, yet gentle, certainly not the face of a crazed, power-maddened killer. But then, Ted Bundy hadn't much looked like a serial killer, had he.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mister President," Daniel said, his voice quiet and pleasant.

Hayes stood and shook the archeologist's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Jackson. I could say that I've heard a lot about you, but that would be an understatement. Do you know everyone else here? I know that you've met the vice president and Mister Woolsey."

Daniel looked at Woolsey and then over at Kinsey, who was presently at the opposite end of the room. "Yes, I have." To Hayes' ears, the man's voice seemed to have hardened a touch, though nothing showed on his face. Daniel then turned to the fourth man in the room. "General Maynard, right? You're the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. We've never met, but I recognize you from TV and the newspapers."

Maynard came forward with a small smile and shook Daniel's hand firmly. "It is an honor to meet you, Doctor Jackson, and I wish to say right now that what you have done for this country, this _planet_, would have earned you a chest full of metals, if you were in the service."

Clearly embarrassed by the praise, the archeologist's eyes dropped to the carpet. "Um . . . thank you, sir," he said quietly.

Hayes instantly decided that he liked this man standing before him. This wasn't some dangerous, megalomaniacal monster waiting to strike, despite what Kinsey might think.

"Please take a seat, Doctor Jackson," he said.

Everyone sat down, except for Kinsey, who stayed where he was.

"Now, perhaps you should explain why you're here," Hayes suggested.

"I'm sure that, by now, you know quite a bit about me, Mister President," Daniel responded. "Specifically about the abilities that I've gained."

"Yes, I have."

"Then I won't have to explain when I say that I am aware of what all of you have been talking about here today."

"And exactly how did you find out, Doctor Jackson," Woolsey asked suspiciously. "Did you 'listen in' on our conversation?"

Daniel looked at him. "No, Mister Woolsey, I did not. I had a dream yesterday morning, what you'd call a vision, showing me what was going to happen here today, as well as some things that have yet to happen. Now, it didn't show me everything, but I did see quite a bit, plenty enough to know that I had to come here."

"To do what, try to convince the president that you, your teammates and General Hammond haven't screwed up time and time again?" Kinsey asked, apparently having gotten over some of his fear.

Daniel turned and just stared at him for a very long moment, saying nothing. Kinsey shrank back a little, which interested Hayes greatly. The archeologist returned his attention to the others.

"Yes, we've made mistakes, all of us have," he said. "There have been errors in judgment. But name me one person on this planet who has never made a mistake, never made a decision they shouldn't have. Name me one person who could run the SGC with absolute perfection, never screwing up even once. If you can do that, then I welcome you to replace General Hammond with that person, because we'd all benefit from having a perfect human being in command there."

"Obviously, we can't, Doctor Jackson," Hayes said. "No human being on this planet or any other is perfect. But some serious questions have been raised about General Hammond and all the members of your team."

Daniel nodded. "Yes, I know." His eyes flickered over Woolsey and Kinsey. "I know what accusations have been made against us. Now, obviously, I'm not an impartial observer, but then neither is Vice President Kinsey."

"What are you accusing me of?" Kinsey asked angrily.

"I didn't accuse you of anything, but you and I both know that you have an agenda, and getting rid of General Hammond and SG-1 is part of that agenda. And please don't insult our intelligence by denying it. Even if I wasn't psychic, I could see right through you."

Kinsey flushed with anger and opened his mouth to say something.

"Bob, just let the man say what he came to say," Hayes said, deciding that he really did like Daniel. The archeologist wasn't afraid to stand up to anyone and speak his mind, and the president suspected that he possessed a cutting wit that would leave Kinsey bleeding on the floor if he chose to let it loose.

"Thank you, sir," Daniel said. "First of all, I would like to remind everyone of what happened when General Hammond was replaced by someone else as commander of the SGC."

"I don't think you have to, Doctor Jackson," Maynard said. "It was all in the report. Because of General Bauer's actions, an entire planet was destroyed, and Earth was placed in serious jeopardy."

Daniel nodded. "Those things would never have happened if General Hammond had remained in command. The UAV only scanned a fifty-mile radius from the Stargate of the planet that was destroyed. We don't know what was beyond those fifty miles. For all we know, Bauer's actions may have cost the lives of thousands of people, perhaps more. An entire civilization may have been wiped out because certain parties," he glanced over at Kinsey, "had decided that the Stargate wasn't being used in the way they thought it should be. And, now, it's happening again. Vice President Kinsey and others believe that the program has been mismanaged, that others can do a better job of running it. But I ask you." He looked straight at Hayes. "How do _you_ think it should be run?"

"I'm afraid that I really can't answer that, not yet," Hayes replied honestly.

Daniel gave a nod. "As I'm sure all of you know, I've had issues in the past with things that the people in charge of the Stargate Program wanted to do. I'm not in the military, so I don't look at things from a military or strategic standpoint. I look at what I believe to be morally right and wrong, how decisions will affect the individuals involved, _all_ of the individuals involved, regardless of whether or not they are human. Keeping that in mind, this is the way I see things. With General Bauer, we got a glimpse of what would happen if the Stargate Program was run from a purely military perspective. It would become nothing more than a source for weapons and other things to give us the power that many feel we need to have, a way for us to go out there and kick ass." Daniel looked straight at the president. "That's how the Goa'uld use the Stargate. It is a tool they use to conquer their enemies, to subjugate and destroy. They travel through it to other worlds looking for technology that they will use against each other and on other races. I don't know about you, but the thought of Earth using the Stargate in that way makes me ill, and I'd be willing to bet that the Asgard wouldn't be all that pleased about it either.

"Then there is the opposite end of the spectrum. I can't tell you how delighted I'd be if the Stargate could be used solely as a tool for exploration and learning, a way to discover the secrets of the universe that are out there waiting to be found. There are so many things to be learned, so much for us to see and experience out there. Since joining the program, I have seen wonders that defy imagination, gained knowledge that would change humanity, if it could be revealed. The problem is that, as much as we may wish it wasn't so, there are enemies out there, powerful and dangerous enemies, the Goa'uld, the Replicators and others. Even as I sit here talking to you, they are killing and enslaving tens of thousands, _millions_. So, how could we trip merrily through the galaxy, taking in all the knowledge and wonder, and turn our backs on the fellow human beings out there who need our help?"

Daniel's eyes came to rest on Kinsey. "Some believe that Earth is the only planet that matters, that as long as Earth, specifically the United States, is safe, the rest of the galaxy can go to hell. And if keeping Earth safe means committing terrible injustices against civilizations on other worlds, well, that's perfectly acceptable as long as good old Earth benefits. That's what the rogue element of the NID, the people like Colonel Maybourne, thought." He returned his gaze to Hayes. "But such a callous, selfish, self-centered attitude is not the kind of attitude that any world power should have."

"It damn well isn't the attitude that _this_ country is founded upon," the president stated firmly.

"Just get to the point, Jackson," Kinsey snapped, not at all pleased with the way things were going.

Daniel gave Kinsey a cold, hard stare. "My point, Mister Vice President, is that, for seven years, General Hammond has run the SGC neither from a purely military standpoint nor from the opposite one. Though he is in the military, he has rarely let the search for weapons and other technology blind him to the issue of morality. He supports both military and exploratory missions, understanding that both are important to the program and to Earth. He has commanded fairly and with compassion, insight and wisdom. Yes, he's made mistakes, some of which were because he cares so much for the people under his command. But would any of you want a commander who didn't care?"

Daniel's full attention returned to Hayes. "I know that the issue of the other countries that are now involved with the Stargate Program is of great concern to some. Those people might believe that having someone who is not military in command of the SGC would help smooth a few ruffled feathers, appease a few representatives of those other countries, especially if that person happened to be someone skilled in international diplomacy. I also know that the possibility that the Stargate Program will become public knowledge is a concern of those people and that they think that having a civilian in charge of the SGC would be more appealing to the public, make everything seem less threatening to them. But I have to ask you this: is international diplomacy and looking better in the eyes of the public really what's most important here? Not from where I stand. We are in a battle against a race of beings that would gladly wipe us all out if they could, beings that enslave billions and slaughter millions, beings that we _must_ defeat in order to have any kind of security for Earth. How could any man or woman who has no training or experience in dealing with that kind of threat have the skills and knowledge to run the SGC in the right way? The learning curve for that person would be far too costly to the lives of others and take time that we might not have. Sure, that person might be great at negotiating with Russia, Great Britain, China and the other countries that know about the Stargate, but while they're busy playing nice with those other countries, the Goa'uld are busy destroying countless civilizations out in the galaxy and plotting how to wipe out every man, woman and child on Earth."

Hayes stared at Daniel, mouth hanging slightly open. _'Good God. Maybe I __**can**__ understand why Bob's so afraid of this man,'_ he thought. It was as if Daniel Jackson had plucked the thoughts he'd had earlier today right out of his head. Only this morning, he had been looking at the political and international aspects of the whole issue and wondering if they needed someone at the SGC who would be more of a diplomat and not connected to the military. And here this man just brought up that very thing and shot his reasoning down in flames.

"I don't know about everyone else, but I've heard enough," Kinsey said disgustedly. "You have no right to preach to us, Jackson, and tell us what we should and should not do. The actions you've taken, the things you have done since gaining this unholy power of yours prove that you're not the morally incorruptible man that so many hail you to be."

The president saw something flicker briefly across Daniel's face, something that looked to him like sorrow and shame. The archeologist's face was turned to the floor when he spoke.

"I'm not proud of some of the things I've had to do since developing these abilities. I wish that a lot of them hadn't been necessary." He lifted his eyes and focused them intently upon the vice president. "But all the things I've done, both out there and here on Earth, were what I believed had to be done to fight the Goa'uld, to protect the lives of others or myself, or to make sure that the allies we so dearly need remain our allies. So, tell me, Mister Vice President. What was _your_ reason for doing some of the things _you've_ done? I'd really love to know."

Kinsey's face went pale, panic flashing briefly in his eyes.

_'Oh, there is __**definitely**__ something going on between these two,'_ Hayes decided. The question is what?

"You've spent a lot of our time defending General Hammond," Richard Woolsey said. "I suppose that, next, you're going to start in on the defense of yourself and your fellow teammates."

"No."

That surprised everyone.

"No?" Hayes repeated questioningly.

Daniel looked at him. "I don't think it's necessary, not if you've read the mission reports with an unbiased eye and _really_ seen the picture they've painted of SG-1. Our record speaks for itself." Daniel's gaze speared into Kinsey and then Woolsey. "Our so-called 'intermittent successes' have saved Earth from destruction repeatedly, have gained us powerful allies, have resulted in the deaths or defeat of several Goa'uld, have saved too many human civilizations in the galaxy to name, and have given Earth powerful weapons capable of defending us from attack. To say that a handful of mistakes and errors in judgment is enough to overwhelm all that is ludicrous and insulting. As to the issue of disregarding military authority, if you had to choose between following orders or saving the entire planet, what do you think would be the best choice to make? And as for some of your other arguments against SG-1, they're too short-sighted, illogical and unreasonable for me to even bother with."

There was silence in the room after Daniel finished, the other four men shocked by how much he knew about what had been said.

"Thank you for your thoughts, Doctor Jackson," the president said. "I'd like you to wait out in the waiting area, please."

"Of course, Mister President," the archeologist said, standing. He left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Hayes leaned back in his seat. "Wow."

Kinsey stared at him. "Wow? That's all you have to say? Jackson obviously spied on us with his abilities. It's things like this that prove how dangerous he is."

"The man had a prophetic dream," Maynard countered. "He didn't do it deliberately."

"We only have his word on that," Woolsey pointed out. "Doctor Jackson does possess the ability to consciously look into the future."

Kinsey looked at the president. "You have to do something about this. Jackson is far too dangerous to be allowed to continue running around free."

"What are you suggesting, Bob, that I throw him in prison? Even if I was willing to do such a thing, which I'm not, how long could we keep him locked up?"

"He could be kept sedated."

Maynard stared at Kinsey, appalled. "I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing. That man has helped save this planet. He has gone so far as to sacrifice his _life_ for the sake of others, and not just once. He has played a vital role in many of the victories we've had against the Goa'uld, personally capturing two of them. He's the one who opened the Stargate! As far as I'm concerned, he deserves the Presidential Medal of Freedom for his contributions to Earth and the rest of humanity."

"Oh, please," Kinsey sneered. "You may be enamored of Jackson, but the rest of us aren't so easily impressed."

"Actually, Bob, I found myself _quite_ impressed by him," the president stated.

Kinsey gaped at him. "You can't be serious."

"Why not? Apparently unlike you, I've been able to read these reports," Hayes waved his hand at the stack of files, "with an unbiased eye, and there is no question in my mind that Doctor Jackson has given a lot to this planet and to people on other worlds. For God's sake! The man has died nearly half a dozen times while in the service of this nation! How many others can say that?"

Before Kinsey could say something more, Woolsey spoke up. "There is no denying that Doctor Jackson has performed a great service to Earth in the past. I, for one, am not ignoring that. But the issue at hand is whether or not we can still trust him. What we saw here today proves that he possesses a power that can enable him to learn top secret information, hear confidential conversations, and that is just one facet of his abilities. He has a frightening power to kill and destroy, a power that even a fully equipped army would be hard-pressed to stand against. If he really did decide to take control of this country, he wouldn't be able to succeed against the full might of the U.S. military, but it _would_ be within his power to wipe out a good portion of our leadership simply by walking around Washington and blowing up the right buildings. Now, I'm not saying that he is considering something like that now, but we don't know how long it will be before this power of his completely goes to his head."

"So, you think we should keep him sedated against his will in prison, too?" Hayes asked, having a hard time believing that Kinsey and Woolsey could be so paranoid.

"That might not be the best solution since General Hammond and his teammates could cause a lot of trouble, but exiling him to a planet with no Stargate would be a viable alternative, although there would be the danger that a Goa'uld would happen upon the planet in one of their ships and take him as a host. To be honest, I don't know what the best solution to this problem would be."

Kinsey almost said aloud that they should consider having Jackson gotten out of the way permanently, but he knew that Hayes and Maynard would both have a cow at that suggestion. Damn Price and his incompetence. If the assassin had just done his job right, they wouldn't have this problem, and Kinsey wouldn't have to worry that Jackson was going to discover and reveal how far Kinsey was willing to go to gain control of the Stargate Program. He wouldn't have to worry that the archeologist would find out all about the organization he was now in league with and what they were planning on doing.

"Well, I'm not prepared to jump to conclusions about this," the president said, breaking into Kinsey's thoughts. "The man deserves to have his freedom unless more evidence suggests that he really is a danger to us."

"Mister President--" Kinsey began to object.

"That's my final say on the matter, Bob," Hayes stated firmly.

"And what of the issue of General Hammond and SG-1?" Woolsey asked.

"I'm not prepared to come to a decision on that yet. I've got a lot to consider. I'd say that this meeting is at an end, gentleman. Thank you."

Maynard and Woolsey exited the room. Kinsey opened his mouth to speak, but Hayes didn't let him get a word out.

"I've heard enough from you, Bob. I have a lot of thinking to do now."

"You're not going to talk with Jackson again are you?"

"I'm considering it."

"That would be very unwise, far too dangerous."

"For whom? For me . . . or for you?"

Kinsey stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about. I am merely concerned that Jackson will attempt to do something to make you see things his way. We really don't know what other powers he might possess that he's told no one about. He may have the ability to control people's minds or implant thoughts in their heads."

Hayes laughed a little and shook his head. "Bob, this whole thing is already like some wild science fiction movie. Don't make it out to be even wilder. Just go back to your office or something. I will let you know when I've come to a decision."

A very unhappy Vice President Kinsey left the Oval Office. When he got to the waiting area, he saw that General Maynard was in a conversation with Daniel. The two seemed to be getting along famously. Perhaps in addition to getting rid of Hammond and SG-1, Kinsey should consider trying to get Maynard removed from his position as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. If it hadn't been for the general's defense of SG-1 and Hammond, the president would have seen things Kinsey's way right away.

Daniel, whose back had been facing Kinsey, suddenly stopped speaking and turned toward him. His eyes bored into the vice president's for a long, silent moment, then he turned back to Maynard and resumed speaking to him. Kinsey continued on his way, wondering if he could convince his contacts in the organization to get rid of Jackson themselves.

Even though things had not gone as planned, Kinsey was still confident that the president would see things his way. And if he didn't, well, it wouldn't be the first time that a president was assassinated. Once Hayes was out of the way and Kinsey had taken over, he'd have complete control to do what needed to be done. One of the very first things would be to make sure that Jackson didn't live long enough to figure things out. As president, Kinsey would have the power to get people on the job who'd do things right.

The vice president went to his office. He was pouring himself a drink when his secretary told him that Woolsey was there to see him.

"Send him in." The NID man came in, and Kinsey offered him a drink.

"No, thank you," Woolsey responded.

"That was nice work today, Richard."

"Really? I got the distinct feeling it didn't go so well."

"Ah, well, it doesn't matter."

Woolsey stared at him in surprise. "It doesn't?"

"Nah. The President's gonna come around," Kinsey told him confidently.

"I didn't get that impression, Mister Vice President. In fact, I clearly sensed that he was siding with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and Doctor Jackson."

Kinsey laughed. "Today was a formality. Don't get me wrong. The job you did was vital. The President has to appear to be hearing both sides, considering his position. He'll see things my way eventually."

"And if he doesn't?"

The vice president gave a chuckle that sounded somewhat ominous to Woolsey's ears.

"Things happen," he said mysteriously.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Woolsey asked, getting a bad feeling.

"It means you chose the right side, Richard. One way or another, I promise you, I'm gonna win this one."

Woolsey's level of concern heightened dramatically. He didn't like the feeling he was getting or the suspicion that was starting to form in his head. He turned away from Kinsey to hide his expression.

"If you will excuse me, sir, I have some other business to take care of," he said.

He left the White House a short while later, wondering if he'd made a terrible mistake in giving his allegiance to Robert Kinsey. There was no doubt in his mind that the vice president had been hinting that, if the president didn't play ball, arrangements would be made for him to be gotten out of the way.

As Woolsey reached his car, a thought hit him that made him freeze in his tracks. He recalled another conversation he'd had with Kinsey, one about Daniel Jackson. After he had told Senator Kinsey about what the archeologist had said during his interrogation, Kinsey had said, "Don't worry about Doctor Jackson. He isn't going to pose a problem." When the senator stated those words, there had been a look on his face and a tone in his voice very much like what Woolsey had just seen and heard. And, only a few days later, the first of three attempts were made on Jackson's life.

Deeply shaken, Richard Woolsey got in his car and left the White House grounds. How could he have been so wrong? How could he have missed seeing this before? As Woolsey made his way to the Pentagon, all of the pieces began falling into place, and the picture that was being formed was not a pretty one. Feeling like a fool, Woolsey decided that maybe it was time to change sides.

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President Hayes was standing at one of the windows behind his desk, looking out, when Daniel entered the room.

"I was told that you wanted to speak to me in private," he said to the archeologist.

"Yes, sir. There were things I didn't want to tell you with Vice President Kinsey and Mister Woolsey present."

Hayes turned to him. "I see." He studied the man before him. "What is it like, Doctor Jackson, to have that kind of power?"

"Terrifying," Daniel answered with complete honesty. "I don't think that humans were meant to have this kind of power, at least not when it's thrust upon them so suddenly. If it wasn't for the lives I can save with it, I'd gladly do whatever I could to get rid of it, to make me just an ordinary person again."

Hayes stared at him. "That surprises me. I should think that anyone gaining that kind of power would want to keep it."

Daniel shook his head. "It comes with a big price tag, sir, and a huge weight of responsibility, one that can be pretty overwhelming at times."

The president thought about that. "Yes, I guess it would." He came around the desk. "You're right. I'm not so sure that I'd want it." His expression lightened, and he smiled a little. "Could you . . . do something?"

Daniel frowned in puzzlement. "Do something?"

"Yeah. Make my desk fly around the room or something."

Daniel smiled. "Ah." His eyes went to the security camera mounted on the wall.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Hayes told him. "All the men who monitor the feeds are sworn to keep silent about what they see."

"Okay."

Daniel focused his attention on the deck, and the president watched in amazement as the pencil holder rose in the air and floated toward him. It came to a stop right in front of him, and he tentatively took it.

"Cool," he said, grinning.

Daniel turned to the fireplace on the north wall. An instant later, the logs burst into flames.

"Whoa!" the president exclaimed. The fire went out after a moment, extinguished without even an ember remaining to give evidence to its prior existence.

"That is amazing," Hayes said. "You'd be great fun at parties. I should have invited you to the Inaugural Ball. You could have really livened things up there."

Hiding a smile, Daniel looked at the floor.

Knowing that they had important things to talk about, Hayes sat down at his desk and told Daniel to take a seat.

"All right, so tell me what it is that you couldn't say in front of Woolsey and the vice president."

"I told you that I had a vision yesterday morning of the events that would take place here today. But my vision showed me more than that. It showed me what would happen as a result of that meeting."

"Go on."

"You would have eventually made the decision to remove General Hammond from his position as the SGC's commander. In his place, you'd have put a person who has no training or experience in dealing with the kind of threat posed by the Goa'uld."

"Who _would_ have that kind of training and experience, Doctor Jackson? It's outside the realm of what they teach even in the military schools." Hayes pointed out.

"_We_ do, sir," Daniel answered, "all the people who serve at the SGC. Granted, none of us who have been there since the early days were trained beforehand to fight aliens, but I think we've done a pretty good job of learning, and we're now teaching others what we've learned so that they will be more prepared than we were in the beginning."

Hayes conceded that point. "All right. Go on with what you were telling me."

"In addition to bringing in a new person to command the SGC, you decide to suspend current Stargate operations until a new government division can be established to take the place of Stargate Command."

"Sounds like it might be a smart idea to me."

"Except that those things cost time, sir, time that we can't afford to lose, especially now."

"What do you mean?"

"Sooner or later, Anubis is going to come after us. It's only a matter of time, and I have a terrible feeling that time is getting very near. We have to be prepared for it, and having someone in command at the SGC who's busy playing catch-up and reworking policy there could be a disaster. We may be right on the verge of finding the Lost City--"

"Whoa, wait a minute. Lost City? I'm sorry Doctor Jackson, but I've only gone through about a third of those files. I'm afraid that I am not fully up to speed on everything."

Daniel briefly explained about the Ancients and what they'd learned about the Lost City. "Our number one priority for the past year has been to find that city, Mister President, and we may be close to it. If you shut down the Stargate for several months, it's going to cost us valuable time, time that we simply cannot afford. If, after we find the Lost City and get its weapons, you decide that you simply have to make changes at the SGC, then it is within your right and power to do so, but, please, I beg you, don't do it now. Let us do what needs to be done to protect Earth. Let us find the Lost City."

Hayes was silent for a few seconds. "So, all you're really asking for is more time."

"Yes, sir."

"So if, after you've found this Lost City and gotten what we need from there, I replace General Hammond with someone else, you won't object?"

"I wouldn't be happy about it, but it is your decision to make, Mister President."

"And what if I decided to disband SG-1 as well, remove all of you from the program or place you in positions where you would not go through the Stargate? Please answer me honestly."

Daniel paused a long while before answering. "Then, sir, I guess I'd be leaving Earth again, because there would still be Goa'uld out there to fight, and I couldn't just stand by and do nothing about it."

"You do realize that, in telling me that, I could take steps to see that you couldn't leave."

"Yes, sir, but how far would you be willing to go to keep me from leaving?" Daniel asked quietly.

The two men stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

"You are an extraordinary man, Doctor Jackson," Hayes finally said, finding himself progressively more impressed by the archeologist.

Daniel shook his head. "Not really, sir. I'm just an ordinary guy who's found himself in an extraordinary situation and knows what he has to do."

Hayes smiled. "All right, I'll think about what you've told me. Thank you for coming."

Daniel left the Oval Office and was escorted out of the White House and to the gate he'd entered through, hoping that what he'd told the president would be enough to cause the man to make the right decision, for Daniel knew with absolute certainty, that, very soon, the forces of Earth would be in a battle against Anubis.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Daniel caught a taxi back to his hotel room. It was now one o'clock, and his flight back home didn't leave until early tomorrow morning. He could have booked a flight out for today, but when he made his reservations, he hadn't known exactly when the meeting would take place or how long he'd be at the White House.

After eating lunch at the hotel's restaurant, Daniel decided to spend the rest of the day playing tourist. As he wandered around DC, taking in all the points of interest, he got the very strong feeling that he was being watched. This was a feeling he could not ignore or chalk up to his imagination.

Catching another taxi, he had it take him to a shopping district. There, he went from shop to shop, pretending that he was window shopping. What he was actually doing was trying to catch a glimpse of the person or persons who were following him. Attempting to sense their presence would be impossible in this crowd, so it was necessary to do this the old-fashioned way.

At last, Daniel caught sight of someone that he knew he'd seen before. A few minutes later, he saw them again. Now that Daniel knew exactly where the man was, he decided to try something. Closing his eyes, Daniel mentally reached out in the direction the man was in and 'scanned' him. When he opened his eyes again, he could now sense the unique feel of the man's presence. Now, Daniel would know the man's position at all times as long as he stayed within range of the archeologist's sixth sense.

Daniel went to a restaurant for dinner. His "shadow" was sitting at a table about three yards behind him, along with another man, whose presence Daniel would now also recognize. He had to wonder who sent the men. He didn't think that it was the president. Hayes didn't strike him as the kind of man who would have him followed. No, Daniel's money was on Kinsey.

The archeologist's fingers brushed against the pocket that held the object he'd gotten from General Hammond. It was the computer disk that contained the evidence against Kinsey linking him to the secret NID operation run by Maybourne out of Area 51, the involvement with the Russians, and the threats to Hammond's family that forced the general to retire over three years ago. Daniel had brought the disk thinking that it might be necessary to give it to the president. But he had chosen not to because he didn't want to take the chance that Hayes would question its authenticity. He had decided that, if Hayes went ahead and chose to replace Hammond, he would then see that the president got the disk. But, now, Daniel was beginning to think that he needed to change his plans.

Coming to a decision, the archeologist realized that he was going to have to lose his tail. He finished his dinner, paid the bill, and left the restaurant. He caught a taxi to one of the big malls, knowing that it would still be open. He headed straight to one of the large shops there and over to the glassware department.

Finding a shelving unit filled with lots of breakable things, he passed by it, continuing down the aisle. As he had hoped, the man following him took the same route. Just as the guy passed the shelves, Daniel gave them a little psychic shove. The unit tipped, spilling its contents all over the floor with a loud crash. Several people came hurrying to see what had happened, and, in the confusion, Daniel quickly slipped away. He headed straight toward the exit of the store that went outside rather than the one that went out into the mall since he knew that the second man was waiting at that other exit. The problem was that Daniel had no way of knowing if there were other people following him, people who could be keeping an eye on this door.

Looking around, he saw that he was in the men's clothing department. An idea came to him. He went over to where the coats were and found a trench coat. He then got a hat. Quickly making his purchases, he changed into the trench coat, putting his own coat into the empty bag. Donning the hat, he exited the shop and headed out into the dim light of the parking lot, hoping that he would not be recognized. He found a taxi and told the driver to take him to a park. There, Daniel wandered around for several minutes, his senses alert for the presence of someone following him. Being that time of night in the middle of winter, the park was empty, so it didn't take Daniel long to determine that he wasn't being followed.

Confident that he'd lost his tail, the archeologist got another taxi, knowing to whom it was that he had to give the disk, but also hoping that he was making the right decision.

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Richard Woolsey, pulled into the driveway of his house. He'd just had a meeting with General Maynard to discuss his suspicions about Vice President Kinsey. Maynard had told him that some kind of proof against Kinsey would be needed before any actions could be taken, and Woolsey had been thinking about it ever since then.

Woolsey pressed his garage door opener and drove his car into the garage. He got out of the car and headed for the door to the house.

"Mister Woolsey."

Woolsey gasped and started at the unexpected sound of someone speaking his name. He spun around to see a figure step out from their hiding place in the corner. Realizing who it was, fear raced through Woolsey's mind, and he backed up a step.

"Please don't be afraid," Daniel said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you doing here?" Woolsey demanded to know. "I could have you arrested for breaking and entering."

"Yes, you could, but I'm hoping that, instead, you'll let me tell you why I'm here. You must realize now that I have no intention of harming you. If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."

"All right, so what do you want?"

"May we go inside?"

Woolsey thought about it for a moment, then nodded. He entered the house, turning off the alarm as Daniel followed him in. They made their way to the living room.

"All right, so tell me why you're here," Woolsey demanded. "If you've come to try to convince me that I'm wrong--"

Daniel held up his hand, silencing him. "No, I'm not here for that. But there is one thing I have to know. Do you honestly believe the things you said or are you simply doing and saying what Vice President Kinsey tells you to? When we met before, I believed that you were merely someone who was in Kinsey's pocket, being paid to do and say what he ordered you to, but, today, I began to suspect otherwise. Call it natural instinct, call it my psychic abilities kicking in, but I feel that you honestly believe what you said about General Hammond and SG-1."

Woolsey stared at Daniel closely, speaking after a few seconds. "Yes, I do believe it. I stand by everything I said. Though the vice president is the one who requested my services, I am not 'in his pocket'. If, during my investigation, I had come to feel differently about what was going on at the SGC, I'd have said so, and my report would have reflected as much."

Daniel nodded his head. "That's all I needed to know." He took the disk out of his pocket and handed it to Woolsey.

"What's this?" the man asked.

"Evidence tying Kinsey to several illegal activities."

"How do I know this is real? It could have been fabricated."

"You know about what happened three years ago when General Hammond suddenly retired without explanation and was quickly replaced by General Bauer. You're a smart man, Woolsey. Didn't you ever wonder about that?"

Surprised, Woolsey said nothing for a moment. On the drive home, he had begun to think about this very thing. "Yes, I did. I have begun to suspect that he was blackmailed."

Daniel nodded. "He was. Someone threatened his family, told him to leave the SGC if he didn't want to see them get hurt." He looked at Woolsey more closely. "So, if you had begun to suspect that Hammond was blackmailed, did you also begin to question how it is that he was able to return to the SGC?"

Again, Woolsey was surprised and more than a little spooked. These thoughts, too, had been running through his mind tonight.

"Are you reading my mind, Doctor Jackson?" he asked bluntly.

"No, I'm not. As far as I know, I don't have that ability. I'm guessing that your question means that you _have_ thought about why Hammond was able to return to the SGC. The answer is on that disk."

"Where did you get it?"

"From General Hammond."

"He's had it all this time?" Woolsey asked.

"Yes."

"So, why didn't he give it to someone?"

"Because he didn't know who to trust," Daniel replied.

"And you're trusting me to do what should be done with it?"

"I'm _hoping_ that you will. But that isn't the only copy, so, if it turns out that my hope in your integrity was misplaced, I or General Hammond can still see that a copy gets to the president."

"Why didn't you give it to him yourself?"

"I wanted to make sure that he believed what it shows. I think that if you're the one who gives it to him, he will believe it without question."

"Because I'm working for Vice President Kinsey and, therefore, would have no reason to make up false evidence against him."

Daniel nodded.

"All right, I'll take a look at it, and, if I believe it's real and that it's something that the president needs to see, I will give it to him."

"Thank you."

"There is something that _I_ need to know, Doctor Jackson," Woolsey said. "Was Vice President Kinsey behind the attempts on your life?"

Daniel hesitated for a moment. "Yes," he answered. "I don't know why, but he is the one who hired the hit men."

"You're the one responsible for the fire at his estate."

Daniel gave a single nod.

The archeologist's confirmation of what Woolsey had suspected made several more pieces fall into place. "He knows that it was you, doesn't he. That's why he is so afraid of you."

"Oh, yes, he knows. I had a little chat with him, told him to leave me alone."

Woolsey studied the archeologist closely. "You could have killed him. He attempted to kill you, destroyed your house. You had a big motive to want him dead. Why didn't you?"

"Because, despite what you may think about me, Mister Woolsey, I am not now nor could ever be that kind of person."

Woolsey let that statement sink in. Daniel turned to go.

"Doctor Jackson?"

The archeologist looked at Woolsey, whose eyes searched his for a long while.

"I . . . may not have been right about everything I said at that meeting," the NID man finally admitted.

Realizing that Woolsey was talking about him, Daniel gave him a little smile and a nod of the head, then quietly left the house.

--------------------------------------------------

As Daniel approached his office the next day, he could sense the presence of his teammates inside. Not the least bit surprised, he smiled a little and entered the room.

"Hi, guys," he said. "Been waiting here all morning or did you have the guards at the front gate tell you when I arrived?"

"We have been here only a few minutes, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c answered. "O'Neill informed us that you had arrived."

"Okay, enough for the chitchat," Jack said in his no-nonsense voice, eyes on Daniel. "Where have you been and what did you do there?"

Daniel came further into the room and leaned back against the worktable. "I went to Washington and had a lovely chat with our new president."

Everyone blinked in surprise, well, except for Teal'c, that is, who just stared at him.

"You what?" Jack said. "You talked to Hayes?"

"Yep. Oh, Kinsey, Woolsey and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs were there, too, by the way."

Jack frowned severely. "Woolsey? Okay, Daniel. What's going on?"

Daniel became serious. "Before I tell you, you have to make two promises," he looked at everyone, "all of you?"

"What promises?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"First, that you won't attempt to get involved in any way and try to talk to the president yourself. Second, that you won't tell General Hammond. He can't know about this. I'm sure that he already suspects I went to Washington, but he must not find out why or what I did there."

"Daniel, General Hammond is our C.O.," Sam pointed out. "If we have information he should be given, we're duty-bound to tell him."

"Sam, how many times in the past have we kept things from him? This wouldn't be the first time."

Sam thought about that. "I guess you're right about that."

"Besides, the only reason why I even know these things is because of my precognitive abilities. If not for them, I wouldn't have had a clue, and Hammond wouldn't have found out anyway, not until the thing I'm hoping I prevented happened."

"All right, we won't tell Hammond," Jack agreed. "As for the other promise, I can't make it until I know what's going on."

Daniel shook his head. "Sorry, Jack. If you can't make that promise now, I can't tell you. I have to be sure that you're not going to try to interfere. I don't think that the president will appreciate it."

"I promise, Daniel," Sam said, trusting his judgment.

"I also give my word," Teal'c stated.

Jack looked at everyone and sighed explosively. "All right, I promise. But I had better not regret it."

Satisfied, Daniel gave a nod. "Kinsey and Woolsey had a meeting with the president to convince him that General Hammond and all of us should be removed from the program."

"Those little weasels," Jack growled. "You know, this doesn't surprise me at all. I'm telling you, Daniel. You should have let me shoot Kinsey. It would have saved us all a lot of trouble."

"What about General Maynard?" Sam asked.

"Oh, he's definitely in our camp," Daniel replied. "From what I saw, he did a pretty good job of defending us."

"Remind me to send him a nice fruit basket on his next birthday," Jack said. "I'm guessing, though, that his defense of us didn't do any good, not in the future that you saw."

"Well, from what I saw, _we_ were all still a part of the program."

"But not Hammond."

"No. He was replaced by someone else."

"Who?"

"I can't tell you that. All I'll say is that it was a civilian."

"A civilian?" Sam said in surprise. "I can't believe that the president would put a civilian in charge of the SGC."

"Daniel, _please_ tell me it wasn't some pain in the ass politician," Jack pleaded.

"No, it wasn't a politician."

"Is that all?" Sam asked.

"I wish it was," Daniel replied. "In my vision, Hayes also chose to shut down the SGC for a three-month review, at the end of which a newly formed government department would take its place."

"Damn," Jack muttered. "This is _so_ not good."

Sam's expression reflected Jack's words. "Three months? We can't afford to lose that much time."

"I know, Sam. That's why I knew that I had to do what I could to talk Hayes out of it."

"And did you succeed?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. I tried my best. I explained to him the dangers that we're facing right now and why we can't afford to lose that kind of time in our search for the Lost City. I also pointed out that this would be the worse time to have someone new in control of the SGC, somebody who really didn't know what they were doing. I also tried to shoot down some of the arguments that Kinsey and Woolsey had against us."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "What arguments, for instance?"

"I think it would be better if you didn't know, Jack. It would just piss you off."

"Oh, I'm _already_ pissed off, Daniel."

"Okay, so it would piss you off even more. Besides, you don't really need to know."

"So, what do we do now?" Sam questioned. "Do we just sit and wait and hope that you managed to change the president's mind?"

"I guess so. That's really all we _can_ do. I did do one other thing, though. I made arrangements for the president to get a copy of a certain computer disk."

Sam and Teal'c both looked at Daniel questioningly, but Jack figured out right away what the archeologist was talking about. He smiled.

"Oh, _really_," he said. "Well, that should certainly shed a new light on things. Maybe I won't have to shoot Kinsey after all. The president might take care of that."

That's when Sam realized what disk Daniel was talking about. "You gave the president the disk with the evidence against Kinsey?"

"Not personally, but I did give it to someone else whom I'm pretty sure will pass on the information."

Jack's smile widened. "Sweet."

Sam's smile only lasted a moment. "So, what's going to happen if Hayes does remove General Hammond and shuts down the SGC for three months?"

"I don't know, Sam," Daniel replied. "My dream didn't show me that, and, to be honest, I'm afraid to take a look."

"Well, we just have to think positive," Jack stated.

Daniel and Sam nodded.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "I am confident that Daniel Jackson's words succeeded in influencing President Hayes' mind."

"Sure they did," Jack responded. "If he can talk an Unas out of eating him, he could manage to talk the president out of making one of the biggest mistakes of his presidency."

"The difference between Chaka and the president, Jack, is that Chaka wasn't concerned about politics," Daniel pointed out. He straightened. "I need to go talk to General Hammond. I'm surprised that he hasn't called me to his office yet."

"What are you going to tell him?" Sam asked.

"Just that I tried to prevent the president from making a big mistake. I don't want him to know that I went to Washington to save his job. If he found that out, it might affect his decisions."

Jack nodded. "You're right. This is something Hammond is better off not knowing."

Fortunately, the general did not push Daniel for details. He trusted that the archeologist knew what he was talking about when he said that it would be better for Hammond not to know. All he did ask was if the president now had the disk. Daniel told the general that he was pretty sure he did.

One thing that Daniel didn't tell anyone was a certain suspicion that he had. In his vision, he saw how Woolsey and Kinsey tried to use the psychological report that MacKenzie had written to convince Hayes that he was mentally unstable. The fact that they had that report made the archeologist suspect that Kinsey was behind the psych evaluation that was done on him by MacKenzie. Hammond had said that someone gave MacKenzie the green light to do it even though, up until then, nobody had been willing to allow it. The question is, did Kinsey encourage the psychiatrist to find Daniel mentally unstable? If things had gone differently and MacKenzie's report had been believed, Daniel would probably now be an unwilling guest at Mental Health, drugged to the gills. Either that or he'd have had to escape from Earth again. There was no doubt that drugged into insensibility and locked up in a mental ward for the rest of his life would be the next best thing to being dead, as far as Kinsey was concerned. Daniel would be out of the way and no longer a danger to him. And there was always the possibility that an "accident" at Mental Health would have eventually gotten rid of Daniel permanently.

Whether MacKenzie had been a willing participant in this or just another person that had been unwittingly used by Kinsey was something Daniel might never know. Either way, the psychiatrist's career was probably over, definitely his involvement in the Stargate Program.

All Daniel hoped now was that he'd managed to preserve the program as it was.

--------------------------------------------------

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. President," Richard Woolsey said.

"Is there something that you wanted to add to your report, Mister Woolsey?" Hayes asked from his seat behind his desk in the Oval Office.

As Woolsey replied, he felt a resurgence of the regret and shame he'd been experiencing ever since he figured out how wrong he'd been to ally himself with Kinsey. "Yes, sir. As I'm sure you're aware, the NID does not exactly have a spotless record. For several years, a group of rogue agents operated inside of its ranks. They were acting on behalf of a cabal of international business interests intent on acquiring alien technology for their own profit."

"One could only hope."

That statement confused Woolsey. "Mister President?"

"I know they're out there, Mister Woolsey. What I'm saying is, one could only hope that money was their chief motivation. However, I doubt the type of person who's behind this is short-sighted enough for that, given what he must know. In light of the new reality that the Stargate presents, there are aspirations beyond mere financial greed. That could be much worse."

"I agree." A greed for money was one thing, but a greed for power was something else entirely, something far more dangerous.

"You're here to tell me that the Vice President is still in league with them?"

Woolsey couldn't say that he was all that surprised that the president already knew about Kinsey's past involvement with the rogue NID. It seemed that he was the only one among them who'd been naive enough not to see it. Well, at least this would make his job easier.

"If these people are as powerful as we both think, it does make one wonder what the Vice President could have possibly offered them in exchange for the price on his head," he said.

"Obviously, the full control of the Stargate Program that the White House affords."

"The Vice President brought key financing to your campaign victory. I just hope it didn't come at too high a cost." Woolsey took an envelope out of his pocket and placed it on President Hayes' desk. He then turned and walked to the door. He paused before exiting, turning back to face the President. "I also hope history one day shows that I tried to do the right thing."

"Whose version of history, Mister Woolsey?"

Woolsey gave a rueful nod and left the room. The President looked down at the envelope lying on his desk, then picked it up. Inside, he found a computer disk and another envelope. Written on the second envelope was a note that said, "Do not open until after you have viewed the contents of the disk."

President Hayes went to his private office and put the disk in his computer. As he had already guessed, it contained damning proof of the vice president's involvement in the illegal activities of the rogue NID agents, including threats that were made against General Hammond three years ago to get him to leave the SGC.

Hayes knew that this evidence was enough to have Kinsey arrested for treason, but he couldn't go public with it, not without revealing the existence of the Stargate Program. Yet the truth remained that the vice president was involved with a group of people who were willing to commit murder to get what they wanted, people who were willing to destroy entire civilizations, as evidenced by some of the acts they had committed to get advanced technology.

So, what should he do? Have Kinsey killed? Even if he was the kind of man to do something like that, which he wasn't, it would raise too many questions in the minds of the American people. With the resources Hayes had available to him now, he knew that it would be possible to frame Kinsey for some other act of treason, but would that be wise? If the vice president felt that he was being backed into a corner, there was no telling what he might do. And there was the people Kinsey was aligned with to consider as well. If they became concerned that they were going to be exposed, they might take drastic actions.

The president picked up the envelope that was with the disk and opened it. Inside was a typed letter.

_Dear Mister President, _ _Now that you've seen the evidence against the vice president, it is vital that you know about something else that I have discovered, something that is not on that disk. As you are probably aware, several months ago, multiple attempts were made on the life of Doctor Jackson. I must tell you that Vice President Kinsey was behind those attempts. I can only assume that he feared that Doctor Jackson would discover the things he is involved with and the plans he has to gain control of the Stargate Program. I am ashamed to admit that I played an unwitting part in the vice president's decision to have Doctor Jackson killed. I can only be thankful that those attempts failed and that Doctor Jackson was able to see to it that his life would not be threatened again, or at least I hope so. _

Hayes stopped reading. So this was the thing that was between Jackson and Kinsey. There was no doubt in the president's mind that Daniel was responsible for the fire that destroyed Kinsey's garage and all its contents, a warning to Kinsey to leave him alone. Judging by how afraid the vice president was of Daniel, Hayes guessed that the archeologist had done more than just burn down that garage. The president smiled slightly, thinking that he'd probably have enjoyed seeing whatever it was that Daniel did to make Kinsey so terrified of him.

Hayes turned his attention back to the letter.

_Knowing what I do now, I realize that I was wrong in many ways, not the least of which was my beliefs about Doctor Jackson. I have come to regret the accusations I made against him, and I hope that nothing I said about him will negatively impact your opinion of him. Though I still stand behind my belief that General Hammond and SG-1 made serious errors during their years at the SGC and that it would be best to have them removed from the program, I know that they are all good people who have been fighting for the welfare of Earth. _ _In the end, all I can say is that it grieves me that my ignorance and blindness led to me being used in this way. I hope that this will not result in a tragedy for this country, this planet, for I fear what the vice president and the people he is allied with will do to get what they want. Please take great care, sir. _ _Respectfully, _ _Richard Woolsey _

Hayes folded the letter and put it and the disk back in the envelope they came in. They would be going in the safe for safekeeping.

Woolsey's last paragraph made Hayes think about what all this might mean for him. He was not stupid enough to believe that he was safe just because he was the president. If these people truly believed that having him assassinated was the only way to get what they wanted, they wouldn't hesitate to do so.

Yet again, Hayes asked himself what he should do. He thought about it for a long while. Finally, he decided that, for right now, it would be best to do nothing about Kinsey. Sooner or later, the vice president would have to be dealt with, but that time had not yet come.

--------------------------------------------------

The last couple of days had passed quietly for SG-1, though the thought of what might happen soon prayed heavily on the minds of all of them. It was now the morning of the third day, and Daniel had finally decided to take another peek into the future. Unfortunately, all he saw were quick flashes of what looked like the aftermath of a volcanic eruption and then a desolate, snow-covered landscape, ships battling overhead. It was the second image that made him remember another vision he had months ago.

Later that day, Jack stopped by Daniel's office and immediately saw that something was bothering the archeologist.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Daniel looked up at him from his chair behind the desk. "I remembered something earlier today. When you were hit by that staff blast on the mission to rescue Airman Wells, I wondered why my abilities didn't warn me earlier that something was going to happen to you. I realized a couple of hours ago that I _did_ get a warning."

"You did? When?"

"Do you recall the vision I had after I, um, accidentally made a mess of my office?"

"The one that was so intense you weren't even aware that you were cutting your hand to ribbons on that broken glass?"

"Yeah. In that vision, I saw so many things. Images were flashing by so fast that I couldn't even register some of them. I realize now that one of the things I saw was that battle on P3X-666. I saw you go down." Daniel shook his head. "When we got to the battlefield, I didn't make the connection. I didn't recognize that it was the same as what I'd seen in my vision. If I had, I could have prevented what happened to you."

"Daniel, don't beat yourself up over it. You had that vision months ago. You can't be expected to remember everything. Besides, everything turned out fine. I'm alive, aren't I?"

Daniel nodded. "Yes. Yes, you are. There is one thing, though. In that vision, I saw another big battle. It looked bad, Jack. Our ships were fighting Goa'uld ships over what looked like some kind of ice planet or maybe just an area of a planet where there was a whole lot of snow. Earlier today, I took a look into the future and saw it again."

"Were we winning?"

"I couldn't tell. The image only lasted a couple of seconds."

"So, sooner or later, we're going to duke it out big time with the Goa'uld, huh?"

"Yes, unless something happens to change it, and I have a feeling that might not be possible." Daniel's eyes drifted away from Jack's. "Something's coming, Jack, something that is going to change everything."

To be continued.


End file.
